


Gilt, Aurum, Gold

by GorseMonster



Series: Far Beyond Paradise Lost [8]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Altered Mental States, Anal Sex, Consensual Drugging, Cuddling & Snuggling, Double Penetration in One Hole, Egg Laying, Eggpreg, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Hemipenes, Hurt/Comfort, Marriage, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Monsterfucking, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Pampering, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Recreational Drug Use, Shapeshifting, Sickfic, Soul Sex, These Geese Are Gay, Threesome, Transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22851154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GorseMonster/pseuds/GorseMonster
Summary: A collection of short fics set in the Golden Age of Amaurot, featuring my Amaurotine WoL, Iosis, and their many paramours.Please mind the tags as they will be updated with each chapter uploaded to reflect content.
Relationships: Amaurotine Warrior of Light/Elidibus, Amaurotine Warrior of Light/Hythlodaeus, Amaurotine Warrior of Light/Nabriales, Amaurotine Warrior of Light/Nabriales/Elidibus, Amaurotine Warrior of Light/Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch, Amaurotine Warrior of Light/Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Hythlodaeus
Series: Far Beyond Paradise Lost [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1450672
Comments: 8
Kudos: 74





	1. Levin Scar - NSFW

“Ah, a-another dose, Majestic, please,” Iosis groaned, their back pressed up against a wall in their office. Their right wrist was held tight against the marble they were pressed against, keeping them in place, while the other was carefully avoided, limp at their side.

“Please, I need it, I need your…” they begged, interrupted by the touch of Nabriales’ fingers on aching, swollen flesh between their thighs. At their left shoulder a fresh but starting to heal wound, a scar of levin still almost cracking with leftover aether gnarling their skin. Robes hiked up, Nabriales pressed himself tight against them,  _ inside  _ them, making the polymorph sigh out a pleasured sound amongst the pain of the burn in their arm.

“You need my what, shapeshifter?” he asked firmly, his lips finding the base of a long horn. His tongue slipped against its ridges making Iosis writhe and buck against him, pressing his shaft deeper, thrusting their own arousal against his hand.

“Y-your concoctions, Nabriales, your medicines, please, by all of Creation  _ please... _ ”

“So sweetly you beg. Who am I to refuse such an honest entreaty?” Nabriales purred. Raising his hand away from the polymorph’s arousal, a simple flick of the wrist had him holding a small glass phial, filled with a dark, shimmering substance. It was brought to Iosis’ lips, who eagerly parted them, tongue curling and pressing into the phial of syrupy poison, swallowing eagerly as its aromatic bitterness coated their throat. Nabriales brought it away once it was empty, slipping his fingers into their mouth to rub their tongue, the other Ancient murmuring a sound of pleasure, sucking on his fingers. Once he was sure no more of the euphoria-instilling drug remained, he slipped the digits from their mouth, cradling their jaw.

“What a good monster you are, Iosis. Every last little drop of medicine.” he praised, tucking his head in and pressing his lips to their throat to feel them swallow. His hips rolled and pushed hard, a betraying little murmur of his own delight as his arousal throbbed within Iosis’ eager body.

Soon, the corrosion-like feeling of the wound on Iosis’ shoulder began to fade, replaced by a pleasant lightness, a deep-seated buzz that bloomed from their bones and warmed their body. “Y-yess...yes, mmfh, yes, thank you, thank you.” Their wings, almost pinned beneath them, twitch and jerk, moments of stretching until spasming, folding back in as the effect of Nabriales’ latest experiment took hold, pushing pain from their senses, until the only things they felt were pleasure and the Majestic’s weight holding them fast.

Their head rolled back as their eyes fluttered shut, responding with aborted jolts of their hips as soon that heavenly intoxication spread between their thighs, a shuddering groan as they peaked with a paradisiacal slowness around the Majestic, abdominal muscles flexing as a sly press of aether caressed and squeezed the plush, sensitive flesh at the crown of their folds. Wounded arm lifting, avian digits found purchase on the bare skin of Nabriales’ hip, pulling him tight, sharp talons sinking in as gold reeled regal purple into its shimmering fields and black cherry rivers, weaving and knitting unguarded aether with the other.

Iosis shuddered in bliss as their actions stole a strangled sound from the Majestic, gripping their right wrist tight and keeping it pinned against the wall, while his other cradled the back of the polymorph’s head. He huffed hot breaths against their neck as his hips jerked once, twice, a third time before almost crushing himself against them. Hips trembling, he found his release, filling the other Ancient with warmth and thick aether.

The world was far away for a long time, Iosis sunk into intoxicated bliss, their pain all but forgotten, idle, soft caresses of gold on purple, returned with slowness as Nabriales’ breath returned, rocking his hips but once before pulling his fading hardness from the other, keeping them supported upright with the weight of his body as he buttoned his undergarments and pushed his robe back down, taking care of Iosis similarly.

“You know, little monster, the pain of an injury is not necessitated before you feel you may ask for my  _ medicines. _ All too glad am I to see you in such a state of  _ splendor. _ ”

Iosis could only let out a soft, sighing groan of acknowledgement as they were lifted, Nabriales looking at the state of their office with a proud smirk, holding them in one arm, braced against him with the other.

“I know you are  _ loathe _ to travel this way but not even  _ I _ am cruel enough to leave you in your office like this,” he teased, kissing one of their horns. The aether shifted, curling around the two before swallowing them both, whisked away to somewhere better for the polymorph to come down from their reverie.


	2. Expedited Delivery - NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Experimentation with Amaurotine biological cycles goes awry after a few years.
> 
> Welcome to rare Hythlodaeus content and rare oviposition content!

It was a quiet afternoon in Iosis’ office, the polymorph idly sketching concepts, modifications that were designed to enhance the physical senses to harmonise with aetheric. In short, changes that would not be so easily seen. Claws of one hand scratching and etching, the other playing idly over their lower stomach. Invisible beneath robes, the presence of dense aetheric eggs causing a heavy swell to their belly. 

Most Amaurotines would allow these to simply fade back into their own aether if they did not desire children, which Iosis certainly did not. However, ever one to break taboos, Iosis chose instead for their own pleasure, to engage in the laying of them anyway. Hades and Hythlodaeus had warned them that inducing it willfully could lead to ramifications but...Iosis never was one to listen. So when a cramp, a contraction that they did not will ripped through their body it was a shriek of pained surprise.

“Oh no, no no, this wasn’t the plan, I wasn-”

Another contraction hit and Iosis clapped a hand over their mouth to stifle the sound. They weren’t ready they weren’t going to indulge for at least another three days. But after two decades of indulging this way, Iosis’ body had decided it would take matters into its own hands. Another pang and Iosis doubled over, pain and ecstasy sparking through their senses. Not here, not in the office, not alone, never ever alone, they needed somebody there.

Hades? Busy, he had been so busy since taking office.

Nabriales? No, no, he didn’t even know about this and he would never let them hear the end of it.

Hythlodaeus. He was off work today.

They hated to travel this way but there was no time as their body’s demands took over, they could feel the pressure of the smooth, solidified aether growing and there was no time. So in a rush of aether, they pulled themself from their office, across the city to land serendipitously against their husband, wandering from living room to kitchen. Their talons grabbed at his heavy robes as they tried to stay upright, pleading up at him through their mask.

“Hyth, please, help, please help, I’m-ah-hnnhff-” they stuttered, another squeeze of muscles drawing a moan and a sob from their body. With eyes wide, Hythlodaeus pulled the shaking Amaurotine up into his arms, carrying them to the bedroom.

“My love, did you induce yourself at work?”

“N-no. No, it just s-started happening.”

Hythlodaeus, amongst the huffs and pants and moaning of his lover, made an amused noise. “Did Hades and I not warn you about this, sweetheart?”

Another contraction and Iosis made a sound that was almost angry. “I know! I know wh-ohh, oh...oh...I know what you said, I know what you said, but I just need help right now.”

Hythlodaeus poured Iosis onto the bed, shivering as they resisted the process until properly comfortable. With a gentle brush of his fingers, Iosis’ robes melted away, leaving them bare, heavily-scarred skin traced over by the gentle administrator. He similarly disrobed and slid onto the bed, pulling Iosis so they were leant sideways to him, resting on his chest but allowing him to easily stroke the aching swell of their stomach.

“Goodness me, my love, so many this year,” Hythlodaeus teased, his hand slipping lower to stroke the throbbing crown at Iosis’ apex. “You must have been holding this off for some time. Did nobody else notice this?” he continued, pressing his wrist against the tightness of their belly. “It’s okay, Io, you can let it happen now.”

Iosis whimpered, relaxing their hold; how embarrassing, for a flesh tailor to not even be able to control their own body. Almost immediately, a contraction ripped through their body, one that lasted, and lasted, and ended with a gasp as the first of their clutch slipped from its chamber into their canal, its firm surface pressing in all the places they so delighted in. Hythlodaeus practically purred to Iosis, kissing their shoulder, cheek and horns as he massaged their belly with one hand, encouraging their body, and slowly stroked and squeezed their plush arousal, pumping it between two fingers, encouraging their pleasure.

“Mmg, Hyth, I’m s-sorry for not -ggh- listening to you and Hades, I just wanted to have some f-fuuu-aaaAAAHhh-...fun.” Their legs twitched and hips bucked as gleaming gold, the same colour as their aether -for that is what it was- parted their folds. Hythlodaeus’ fingers slipped lower, gently slipping beneath and into the polymorph to tug the egg from their entrance, letting it sit heavy and warm between their thighs.

“I must say that Nabriales’ influence on you has given you some terrible ideas in the last three decades or so. Perhaps I should speak with the Majesti-”

“Don’t-don’t you dare!”

Hythlodaeus’ brow raised, dipping his head closer to allow long copper locks to tickle over Iosis’ chest. “And why would that be my dear?” A firm press to their belly, filling their lungs with a ragged gasp as another sphere pressed downwards, their walls squeezing around it as the polymorph climaxed with a shuddering gasp. “Might it be because Nabriales does not know about this?”

The polymorph was blushing, writhing as the second of the clutch slipped out wetly, coated in the fluids of their orgasm. “H-Hyth I can’t...Answer questionnnns!” they complained as their body sped up its demands, and Hythlodaeus his caressing of aching flesh in time. The aromatic bitterness of Hythlodaeus’ aether was suddenly cut with a syrupy sweetness; floral fruit that could only be one person.

“My dear monster, you could answer those questions and choose not to. Does Nabriales know of this? I’m sure he will have been most saddened that his favourite toy did not wish to play the last few moons.”

Hades’ hands were warm, sliding across their side, over their chest to cup their cheek, catching their moan in a soft kiss as their body cramped up again, already teetering on the edge of another orgasm. “Will you answer me, my love?”

They squirmed in the hold as the squeezes of deep muscles ached and teased them, one egg pressing in just the right spot and another joining it soon after. “J-just us. He doesn’t. His id-ideee--AAah!” Their body convulsed, and Hades and Hythlodaeus gently braced them as third, fourth, fifth slipped from their body. A slow rub and squeeze to the crest of their folds from Hades and Iosis unraveled against the two of them, shaking and twitching, their leathery, spade-tipped tail thrashing against the soft bed.

“Mmm, I always do love to hear you sing, Iosis. Don’t you agree, Hythlodaeus?” Hades voice was soft, smooth, and before Hythlodaeus could answer he leaned across to catch the other man’s lips, the two softly moving mouths together for a few moments before lavishing the same love across Iosis’ shoulders, jaw, and cheeks as they gasped for air, abdominal muscles still contracting.

“Th-there’s still...more. M’so tired. Just want to finish this t-to-to-tomor-rrrr…” their words trailed off uselessly as they truly no longer had control of their body’s demands, head hanging low as they drooled exhaustedly with each new pang. Their hips shuddered and their body lurched each time Hades or Hythlodaeus drew another climax from them, either from slow rubs to aether-sensitive horns or caresses to their hard, throbbing arousal.

By the time the contractions subsided, Iosis felt like it had been forever. Their body felt leaden and lighter all at once, and the first thing they were aware of was Hythlodaeus’ voice whispering softly in their ear.

“Nine, nine of them, my love. No wonder your body took over you must have been aching. You did so well, so very well. Look how handsome you are like this.”

Then Hades, teasing and enthralled.

“Did I not tell you, little monster? I warned you ten years ago, and look at what a terrible, awful, handsome, beautiful mess you have made yourself now.” His fingers slipped between their thighs, picking up one of the spheres, the appearance of gleaming, rich molten gold. “Look at me, my love.”

“H-Hades, please I…”

“Come now, this is my favourite part.”

Iosis opened their eyes, hazily turning their gaze to Hades as he pressed the egg to his lips, his tongue sliding under, mouth opening to push it within. Closing his lips around it, his teeth ripped into its gold surface, bursting it and letting summer-sweet, vanilla, coconut and pastry aether pour down his throat with a satisfied moan. Iosis shuddered at the sight, the blush spreading to their ears.

“Perhaps watching me gorge myself on the other eight will perchance teach you to listen to my warnings next time, dear monster.”

Another egg slipped past his lips, burst and swallowed the same way.

“And I will be speaking to Nabriales for giving you this awful, terrible, dreadful idea.”

Hythlodaeus’ fingers slid across Iosis’ stomach, noting that there was still a not-insignificant curve to their lower waist, a collection of treacle-thick aether just beneath skin. “Still one left! It feels...heavy,” he said in a bemused curiosity, noting that the flesh tailor’s fingers making small motions; the sound of needle and thread just barely reaching his aetheric senses.

“Iosis, my love, what of your tenth?” Hythlodaeus asked.

Still shivering with exhaustion, Iosis shook their head slowly, fingers coming to rest on the gentle curve of their belly, lacing with Hythlodaeus’. “S-Saving it.” From the way it pressed outwards from their toned body it was clear this one was denser, heavier, larger than all the others, and with enough pressure relented, Iosis was able to once again reign over their body’s functions.

“Saving it for whom, little monster?” Hades piped up, licking his fingers clean of the fourth of Iosis’ clutch, starting to look almost drunk on their aether. He made a show of picking up the fifth, slipping it into his mouth and swallowing whole, allowing both to watch his throat swell around it as it sank into his body.

The polymorph gazed at Hades through half-lidded, exhausted eyes, their lips pulling to show off so many sharkish teeth in their smile. Both men recognised the song in their spouse’s aether as their response coalesced, a mischievous sound that they only associated with one person in the entire city of Amaurot.

“Nabriales.”


	3. Junk Trade - NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes Iosis many centuries to figure out they can apply their shapeshifting to their frequent 'I wish I had a dick sometimes' thoughts. Hythlodaeus is more than happy to indulge them.

Iosis groaned and whimpered against Hythlodaeus, squirming as the administrator’s fingers firmly gripped around the polymorph’s cock, pumping in four-beat time. “H-Hyth, Hyth, too much, too much,” they pleaded, arching their back, a throb spilling a thick gout of clear pre across Hythlodaeus’ hand.

“Slower? Or softer, my love?” he purred in return, not stopping what he was doing, knowing if his spouse did not answer fast enough he would have them spilling into his hand in a few short moments.

“B-both!” Iosis snapped, gasping and  _ mewling _ against Hythlodaeus. “Daeus, Daeus please,” they added, urgency in their voice. Their husband slowed and softened his caresses, giving the polymorph time to breathe and reorient, their head rolling back against his shoulder as he cradled them to his side with his free arm. Their tail wrapped around their husband’s thigh, squeezing ever tighter each time they approached climax.

“That’s the third time you’ve had me deny you, sweetheart. Are you not  _ hurting _ for your peak?” Hythlodaeus said, his thumb running over the slit of Iosis’ head, slippery with steadily weeping pre.

“Mmmghh’s’toogood,” Iosis slurred back. They were on the precipice of pain from need for climax but yet would refuse it, drawing out the pleasure from this new experience as best they could. Iosis could reshape  _ any _ part of their body, after all. “Want hands, want lips, want- _ f-ffuck!” _ Iosis cursed as within moments Hythlodaeus’ mouth closed around their shaft, his clever tongue running firm up the underside of their arousal to swirl at their pre-soaked head.

The sound they made was a  _ wail _ of ecstasy, almost spilling inside his mouth right there had he not pinched the base of their cock, delaying their climax once more. Hades either was too engrossed in the study or was actively avoiding walking in on his spouse and husband as Iosis  _ knew _ their keening would have been heard by the Architect.

Firm hands pinned the shapeshifter’s hips to the bed, stopping them from wildly thrusting into his mouth as he took their length in slow strokes, a firm suck and caress of his tongue each time he reached their tip. His lips parted, a trail of mixed pre and saliva drawing threads between his bottom lip and his spouse’s aching need. “Such similar likes to Hades,” Hythlodaeus teased. “Slow and firm; but I wonder…” His fingers caressed the drooling tip of Iosis’ twitching cock, their whimpers growing to whines. “Are you ready to come, my love?”

“Y-yes! Yes! Daeus, please, I need, please make me come, I want to, ready to, make me sing,” Iosis babbled, writhing beneath their copper-haired lover. Their tail thrashed and twisted itself in knots and curls, eventually stilling to constrict upon Hythlodaeus’ ankle.

“It’s so nice when you ask so politely.”

His lips were slow, firm, giving way for lightly textured tongue as he worked his mouth down Iosis’ need, drawing back to suck sweetly, and then slipping further down. Just a bit more each time, feeling for how Iosis’ thighs tensed up, begging to sink all of them into his mouth but keeping them held firm. He could feel in their aether how they held on, threads of self-control slipping, each one pouring aether-laced pre into his mouth. But it wasn’t until he heard those breaths become staccato, when the sound of their soul began to jumble that he finally drove down to the shapeshifter’s hilt. The head of their shaft slipped into his throat and he swallowed, and swallowed, and swallowed around them.

Iosis saw  _ stars _ as their climax ripped through them, unraveling their senses into choked cries and sobs of euphoria. Their shaft throbbed, pulsing thick release down Hythlodaeus’ throat, who eagerly drank down every drop. Squirming, toes splaying and curling their husband made them ride out their climax as long as possible until squirming became frantic with overstimulation, tormenting them for just a moment with soft bobs of his head before slipping satisfied flesh from his lips.

Drawing himself back up beside his panting spouse, he carefully drew the blanket over both of them before Iosis’ sweat-slick skin could chill them to discomfort. His lips caught theirs, a soft caress of his tongue against lips that eagerly parted, Iosis tasting themself with a muffled whine. He only kept their attention for a few seconds before parting, letting them continue to catch their breath as their pulse drummed in their ears and their skull buzzed with afterglow.

“ _ Just _ like Hades,” Hythlodaeus mused teasingly, slicking Iosis’ hair out of their face, careful to not touch their horns. “Is your curiosity quite sated now, my sweet gargoyle?”

Iosis nodded dumbly, the final upwards tip of their head going slack, crashing their head into Hythlodaeus’ shoulder, looking up at him with an exhausted, pleasure-drunk smile. “How do you  _ live _ like this, Hyth? I’d never leave the bed.”

The administrator almost boomed a laugh, kissing each horn in turn. “My  _ love. _ We  _ already _ struggle to get you out of bed in the morning because you  _ insist _ on pleasing yourself before  _ anything _ else in the morning. You cannot claim that.”

A huff rushed through their nose, pouting. “The first part still stands.”

“Then my answer there, dear creature, is we live how you do. I am sure myself, Hades or Nabriales would feel  _ just _ the same about a similar trade.” A pause, gently pinching the tip of one of Iosis’ ears. “And I would implore you put  _ that _ idea down right now. I will certainly not become your secondary source of poor ideas. You already have enough.”

A sawtoothed grin crept onto Iosis’ face, even as their eyes slid shut, afterglow dragging them down. Hythlodaeus made an amused sound.

“I suppose it was too late as soon as I said it.”


	4. Letting Go - NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iosis and Nabriales engage in some exploration of their monstrous sides, facilitated by consensual drugging.

“I have two questions, Nabriales,” Iosis started, entering the small laboratory the Majestic had in his house. Anything breakable had been long since cleared away, put in cupboards. Only a few apparatus remained, a few instruments of direct importance. In the middle of the room an adjustable chair had been modified to include restraints for wrists and ankles, soft leather that sheened with Nabriales’ aether.

“Ask anything you like, my little monster. I would not want to proceed without not just your consent but your confidence as well,” Nabriales replied, opening a case with three bottles in it, drugs finely tuned for three purposes, for one specific person. Usually his expertise was not so finely-focused, instead crafting them for more general purposes, and certainly more wholesome purposes.

But he had ever had a soft spot for the polymorph. When they had, in a long, wending ramble, expressed a desire to see how his creations would interact with their shapeshifting, he had found himself quite struck with inspiration. After several samples of blood and aether, he had crafted a series of three infusions.

“Are the restraints necessary? Are they  _ enough? _ ” Iosis said, giving the leather straps a gentle but firm pull with taloned fingers, but found their points made no mark in the supple hide. Their heart picked up a few beats, wordlessly.

“You will find them quite enough. They have been, much like everything tonight, catered for  _ you,  _ my devious monster. As for the requirement, it is as much for me as it is for you. The trials were all a marvelous, resounding success but we both know you can never fully tell until your creation is  _ lived. _ ” Nabriales gave a gentle pat to the chair, bidding Iosis make themself comfortable.

Iosis slid onto the chair, finding even their tail comfortably slipped between the seat and backrest, draping onto the floor where its spade tip tapped with an anxious tic. Nabriales head tipped up from the case, looking over to them with a considering pause before speaking. “If you are at all concerned, I am happy to elucidate as much as-”

“N-no! You don’t need to. I am  _ always _ confident in your work, darling Majestic. I know you would not have said you were ready if it were anything other than the truth. I have just never...not been in control, before.” They gave a gentle tug to Nabriales’ robes, beckoning him over where the soft pads of their fingers brushed across his jawline, a gentle ruffle of the hair there. Their lips curled into a reassuring smile, pulling him down to press their lips against his, a soft lap of golden aether against his mouth that made Nabriales shiver, his fingers gently squeezing around the base of one of Iosis’ horns.

Drawing back, his fingers slid to cradle their chin, his smile gaining a dangerous, hungry edge to it. “And that is what the restraints are for. Now, allow me to prepare you, if you are certain. Did you think of a word, as I asked?”

“Yes. I’m certain. I picked...I picked  _ foxglove _ .”

Nabriales made an amused sound, his smile showing teeth now. “Always botanical terms. Very well. If you call that to me, I will administer the antidote.” Slowly he made his way around the chair, fastening down the soft straps around Iosis’ wrists and ankles, and even one that buckled around the midpoint of their leathery tail, stilling it but still allowing the end to flick and twitch and curl.

  
“My delicious monster; you look quite wonderful like this. Perhaps we ought to see about having you come visit  _ me _ more often? It is only fair, after all. You and yours are such  _ wonderful _ hosts.”

Iosis’ cheeks ruddied, and their gaze tipped away with a gentle huff. “You’re never going to let that night go, are you?” Their chin was softly grasped, pulling their gaze back towards the grinning visage of Nabriales, burnt honey eyes mirthful.

“How could I? A feast for  _ all _ senses.” His lips pressed against their forehead, a soft whisper of aether where he knew further sight lurked just beneath their small guise. As talented as the Majestic was with drawing forwards what Iosis was beneath soft, pale skin, he knew ultimately that the shapeshifter had  _ allowed _ him to do that. This would be the first time that, if his infusion worked as designed, that they would have no control at all.

Opening a drawer, he pulled out a sealed gauze and a bottle of alcohol, soaking the opened fabric and gently swiping the saturated cloth onto Iosis’ arm, who let out a little whine of discomfort as it chilled their skin. “The first, as you well know, will destabilise the hold you have on your aether. It is based on my own venom and as such will confer some of the same effects you  _ always _ hunger for, my delicious pet.” Nabriales opened a sealed needle and chamber, carefully piercing the film of the bottle and drawing the starry substance into the hypodermic.

“The second is in the event that you find discomfort from the destabilisation the first causes; it will dull the sensation. I shall only administer it if asked.” He carefully laid the point at an angle to Iosis’ skin, his other hand gently holding the skin taut to show a plush vein near the surface. “The third will restabilise you. If you call the word, I will use it immediately.”

Giving a small nod of understanding, a trusting gaze to the Majestic, Iosis’ eyes soon fluttered shut as the point of the needle sank beneath skin, a shaking outward breath as the pinpoint concoction emptied into the vein. Familiar, it felt and hummed  _ like _ Nabriales’ aether, but missing notes that made it its entirety. A drug for one very, very specific purpose.

A groan of excitement escaped their lips as their heart picked up its pace, pushing the laden dose of intoxicant through their body, a drumming that only hastened the erosion of bindings upon their ability. A tight hold at all times, even when sleeping, Iosis persistently strained to keep themself conforming to Amaurot’s code. Even then it would sometimes slip; nails too sharp, teeth too pointed, stumps of horns pressing against their cowl, all little shreds of what Iosis was beneath all that.

“How long will it take?” Iosis asked, hissing as alcohol stung the tiny mark on their arm, the needle carefully disposed in a marked container. Their next breath was strained, a lurch in their body they couldn’t identify why. It was not the heady lust of Nabriales’ venom but it was something else.

They realised their control was slipping from the inside out.

“Much faster if you relax, Iosis. Do you need me to dose you further, mm?” His lips softly grazed the polymorph’s, a drop of bittersweet aether teasing their tongue, making Iosis lean forwards, him drawing back just enough to make them follow until their restraints stopped them from chasing Nabriales any further. They twisted and pulled their wrists and spine experimentally, but found there was no give in the straps, a soft whine as aether-coated lips hovered just far enough away that they could not reach.

  
“You must needs ask. You must  _ always _ ask,” he teased, smiling ever-so-sweetly, “and I know you are loathe to.”

Iosis huffed softly, cherry eyes staring down burnt orange, as if perhaps this time the Majestic’s will would break before their own, their greediness always forcing them to plead before Nabriales would find himself pushed to take mercy. The plea was almost on their lips when the world thrummed around them, a ragged breath sinking into their lungs as their spine arched and slumped back into the chair with a low groan. Fingers flexing, their unfocused gaze found their arm, keratinous scales creeping from taloned fingers upwards, the hue of their skin shifting to warm slate alongside. Their tail thrashed as its smooth surface was broken by sharp ridges and thorny spikes, opening their skin in a spray of gold aether stained nebulous by the drug pumping through their system.

“N..Nabriales,” they groaned, his name a reverent utterance as their shoulders ached, grasping onto their control even as it slipped and writhed from them. Soft sounds of pleasure escaped their mouth as muscles strained and even their bones begun to sing with the strain of being kept so small and unassuming. Their eyes slid around the room, pupils drawing to faint slits but catching Nabriales reaching for the second bottle. “N-no! It..mmgh, it doesn’t h-huuurt…” they moaned to him, squirming, clawed toes curling, wrists  _ yanking _ at the restraints as the keratinous scales grew into ridges. “It’s good, it’s good, it’s...please, I...help me,” they finally broke, their thighs pinned together in a bid for relief as the shifting of their body and the lingering effect of Nabriales’ venom pushed desperate want for pleasure forwards.

“Help you what, Iosis?” His hands roamed slowly, agonisingly avoiding all the places he knew made Iosis sing, the heel of his palm firmly pushing them back down into the chair as they attempted to steal a kiss from him again. “You will have your reward, I promise, but when you have  _ earned _ it. And that is when you stop holding on.  _ Relax, little monster.” _ His fingers slid along their jaw, cradling with a slow stroke of his thumb on their cheek, slipping it past their lips and letting their greedy tongue curl around it, its surface changing from smooth to textured, ridges catching on the pads of his thumb. “Yes, exactly so. Let me see you again.”

Slit eyes dilated, blowing out as the control of their aether slipped beyond their grasp, head rolling back and gasping as their horns splintered, curling outwards into jagged antlers, sections fusing together and opalising, a second set tearing free, growing into the first in an agonised sob. It was different from their true body. It was a chaotic, uncontrolled thing borne of any stray thought. Everything that would happen if they were to let go. Keratinous plating and scales changing to bone-metal, the golden sheen gleaming from slate grey, velour skin that moved easily across muscle, identifiably that of Hades’ monstrous body, not of Iosis’.

But oh, oh how it was a  _ relief _ for the polymorph when they finally let their grip go, falling into the bliss as their body shifted without will, bones creaking and snapping, bulking out and lengthening, straining against the bonds which with a flick of the wrist loosened just enough to give them space to breathe. “Please!” Iosis begged, teeth grazing against the thumb in their mouth, a strained sound broken by a sob as bone-metal ornamenting split the skin of their cheeks and jaw, the aurum of their soul spilling from the wounds and trickling down their neck. Above their brow their third eye cracked open, gazing at the Majestic for a trifold  _ plea _ for relief, their hips grinding uselessly back into the chair.

Aether dripping to the floor, Iosis panting and shivering and straining against their bounds, their tail thrashing loudly against the tiles, Nabriales  _ purred _ a sound of delight. Relishing in the sight of his monster sinking into the relief of transformation, his free hand straying to caress the aching hardness throbbing between his legs, straining at soft cloth pants.

“I need...y-you need, I  _ want _ , p-p̡le̕a̸s̡e̛.̢.̛ah..a͞.̸.͘h̡h͏nh.̕..M̨aj͞est͝ic.” Words slurring, Iosis swallowed as their own aether collected on their tongue, almost overpowering in sweetness, stray drops drooling from the side of their mouth as it curled into a snarl, stretching just a bit too far as they bared sharp teeth. The pain in their shoulders reached its peak, a scream as skin split in rivulets of stygian blood and gilt aether for what  _ should _ have been their wings to burst free. But with no control, webbing and bones failed to form, leaving them with claw-tipped tendrils, ones that twitched and curled and writhed in agony. “The͜-  _ ̛th̸e͘ ͢s̷ _ e͠ _ cond! Ahh! Please!” _

Nabriales rushed to the case, even as tendrils wrapped around his ankles, pulling in desperate lust as much as Iosis cried for relief as bones cracked again, the surface of their skin changing again, again, again until the bliss of it turned to an ache. Quickly drawing a full syringe, the second infusion sank into their thigh, gasps of pain soon returning to gasps of pleasure, sweat beading on soft pelt, dripping down to shoulders ornamented with cycloid scales in starry pitch.

The needle clattered into the sharps container, and Nabriales’ lips crushed against Iosis’, his body a dense weight against theirs as he straddled their restrained, shifting form, pulling against bindings, twisting tail and wrists and ankles as their changes refused to cease, mutating to each whim their soul found. Scales, leather, velvet pelt, back to scales again as each change made them moan against his mouth, the Majestic drinking the sounds down as his hips rocked needfully against their belly, his drooling arousal staining soft cloth as his body strained and pleaded with each slide of clothed need against the tailor.

Diamond talons scraped against the arms of the chair, a growl as they so desperately needed more than just this, to change and be rutted and  _ fucked  _ as their body twisted and reformed, trying to concentrate enough to rid clothes. Talons pinged off each other once, twice, to no effect other than to accelerate how skin tore to accommodate new bones where old ones were not enough, spurs crowning their shoulders from between scales.

A flick of the wrist found both Amaurotines bare, no fabric to discomfort, and Nabriales  _ shuddered _ as the feel of veloured underbelly caressed his weeping arousal, as similarly textured tendrils, clumsy and strange to the polymorph fumbled across his body. A touch to his side, a slide across inner thigh, trembling as the clawed tip softly touched the base of his need, and falling away, the muscle unstructured by bone, crashing to the floor limply.

“There’s my majestic monster,” Nabriales teased, grinding his hips against Iosis’, shuddering breaths escaping his lips. So close, so close already from hearing them  _ sing _ in ecstasy, seeing his beloved tailor lose all the threads that so carefully defined them and instead ripping through the weft of their aether til only their raw monstrousness remained.

Iosis let free a shivering, mewling breath as the Majestic’s lips parted from theirs, moving down, dragging his needful heat and slickness down until aching flesh met aching flesh, grinding his arousal to the chubby crown of the shapeshifter’s folds. His head teased theirs, slipping down to caress Iosis’ entrance before sliding back up to grind against swollen need.

A faint curse escaped the tailor’s mouth, slurred as their tongue, long and split at its end rolled uselessly from their maw, its ridges gathering shimmering gold. Each grinding thrust of Nabriales’ hips drew soft groans, mewls and growls, their tail writhing, fingers curling, wanting him, wanting more, wanting to grip, hold, claw-

Nabriales’ motions stuttered as clawed fingers found purchase on his hips, boneless wings twisted in just a second, a chorus of crackling of bone growth and tearing skin as Iosis’ body mimicked the extra limbs of their husband. “Please, please Nabriales, please fuck me, please _fuck_ _me,_ ” Iosis begged, holding him still, letting him feel the aching twitch of their arousal against his. Their torso hunched, leaning forwards to place a heated kiss upon the Majestic’s lips before their teeth tore into their own bottom lip, lapping up gold and drugged blood, and then crushing their mouth to his, tongue forcing his lips open, feeding him aether and addled abyssal blood.

Held fast by clawed limbs he recognised as Hades’, his lover’s husband -and occasional lover’s- bond enough to warp Iosis’ body to resemble his. His tongue lapped at theirs eagerly, a soft pinch of mandibles brought forth from aurum saliva against their tongue. The Majestic groaned and shuddered as skin bloomed into carapace and feathers, sensory hairs along his spine thrumming every soft trilling moan through flesh and sinew and bone  _ deep _ into his soul.

Sweetness of aether and salt of blood mingled in his mouth, swallowed and lapped for every drop, mandibles slipping between the polymorph’s lips to pleadingly drink more as skin hardened to chitin, iridescent feathers pressing from between creases. The bindings upon Iosis’ ankles snapped open, a fevered touch of secondary limbs pushing their thighs wide as his hips pushed, the blunt head of his shaft stretching Iosis around him, sinking until he hilted himself fully. His mouth broke from theirs, slumping against them with a blissed moan. Even within their body changed, squeezing tight around, every texture, bump and ridge an exquisite tease to his aching arousal.

The two lay panting for a moment, their breaths and the cracks of bone and the drip of blood and aether a symphony in their coupling. His name escapes Iosis’ lips like a prayer, and it is enough to spur him to action, hips rolling, pushing deeper for a moment before withdrawing, only for his hips to kiss against theirs in a sharp jolt, pulled tight by clawed hands furrowing weeping cuts into his hips and back. Smooth, then textured, then silken, then smooth again, each thrust rewarded the Majestic with a new sensation, his body lurching with each thrust as his lips crushed against his tailor’s to beg for gilt sweetness.

It should have ached, it should have been raw  _ agony _ for Iosis to be changing so much, for horns to twist and gnarl and furl and unravel into different shapes, for bones to grow and snap and dissolve in sequence, starting over and over, only holding onto the basest of whims, all other aspects changing. Skin tears for ridges, for thorns, for spurs, then melt and heal again to rip open once more, the floor a nebulous sea of molten gold and swirls of stygian pitch.

But it did not. Drugged past pain, past caring, their lips poured aurum, dripping between the two, smeared on flesh to force carapace and plumes of iridescence to the fore.

Nabriales gripped tight, tight, fingertips bursting into talons that sank beneath the soft pelt of Iosis’ sides, and in response the polymorph tore their lips from his to sink their teeth against the crook of his neck, sharp, gouging, tearing flesh from bone and pouring sanguine onto Iosis’ torso to mingle with deep blood and gleaming aether.

Their souls tangled as much as bodies, limbs and tendrils and extremities set free of bonds, holding him fast as his hips lost pace. The sharp sound of a chain snapping reached the Majestic’s woozy ears as ridged tail broke its bonds, leather strap still firmly affixed, twining with laden stinger, weeping venom at its barb. Devoured gold aether dispersed in fine threads through his body, directing fingers to scrape, for legs to grip as his body thrust in desperate need, a thread tight within his pelvis keeping him from his peak.

“Iosis, my monster, mine, I need this, I need you, please,” Nabriales babbled, drooling deep regal purple from his lips. His hips crashed against Iosis’, harder, more desperate, grinding hilts as he swore he felt his peak, how his cock pulsed and his glans swelled but  _ stolen _ at the last moment, leaving him to buck and whimper to chase his pleasure again.

Their walls squeezed tight on him, twitches as Iosis’ peak built, making him set a pace that made the polymorph  _ wail _ in delight as their hips rose to meet his, striking with guided precision upon the spot that made their body  _ milk _ his with each thrust. The grip of their jaws tightened, muffled cries of pleasure.

“Nabriales, Nabriales, Majestic,  _ Dionysus _ ,” Iosis panted, his name bursting from their throat in a devout prayer. “It’s so much, s-so much,  **_too much, too mu̵̵c͜h̴̵͘t̸̶o̧͏̢O̴͘o̷̷͘O͟M̷҉u͘͜͞UC͘H,͡҉ ͢I̸̷͘-͜ I’m-_ ** ” The changes in their body stilled as their peak arrived in deafening intensity, stars sparking behind their eyes and blinding them. Talons released the threads within the other’s body, and their tail tightened its grip, pulling stinger to their lips as they drank his essence as the Majestic drove deep. A ragged gasp clawed into his lungs as his release crashed through him, dizzy as his wounds drove sense from his body as much as aether and intoxicant. Pumping them full of  _ him _ from both aching flesh and his stinger, his teeth - so sharp - found purchase on Iosis’ chest, his tongue laving over soft nipple as he growled through his peak.

With one hand fisting into the Majestic’s hair and the other caressing sensory hairs at the bulb of stinger, it made Nabriales  _ moan _ in ecstasy, pushed beyond what his body can take in delight. Teeth scraped at plumped nipple, sucking and reveling in how each pull of his mouth made Iosis’ body squeeze and milk him for every last drop. 

Trailing up in a dribbling path of tyrian purple drool, his lips pushed against the suckling ones of Iosis, a whimper as they feast upon his aether, unable to anything but reflexively pump dose after dose of venomous hue down their throat. His fingers, avian and taloned, pulled his tail from their mouth, replacing the touch with that of his lips, mandibles diving deep into the monster’s mouth to drink replenishing gold. He ached, he ached within them, still coupled, his hips still uselessly rutting in slow, hard thrusts as the maddening shift of texture within and the addling combination of dosed blood and cloying aether pushed his senses far beyond. Drawing back, lips and grasping mandibles dripped with marbled aethers, lips pulling to reveal sharp teeth in a predatory smile.

**“I~oooo~sis, my handsome creature. Are you there? Do you still crave succor?”** Nabriales’ voice thrummed, a heterodyne tinge in his cadence. Three cherry eyes focused on him, a keening trill as he dragged aether-slick kisses across their face, travelling til lips reached their twisted and crenelated horns, his tongue slipped across each ridge and furl, making Iosis cry out. The sound shrieked down sensory hairs, blurring the barrier of his soul until it mingled with gold.

His fingers closed around the plush head of Iosis’ folds, pumping firmly in time with his own thrusts as his addled body, lightheaded as blood poured from the wound in his neck, sought completion a second time. Their cries became the distorted bass to pounding heart drumbeat, pitched up into a howling shrieks that would drop down into deeper pitch for exhausted sobs.

Aether all but spent, changes became incomplete, corrupt, a calico canvas of scale and leather and velour. Their body twitched and pulsed and gripped around the Majestic’s arousal, combined fluids spilling between to join the impasto of blood and aether on the floor.

Feral, lost in change, change, change the only thing Iosis could do was  _ fuck _ and  _ change _ and their thoughts muddied, words garbled as larynx shifted to only allow the most monstrous of cries free. Claws, talons, claws, bones snapping back and forth in configuration as they wanted to sink through flesh and  _ taste _ everything.

Both beasts keened together in climax as Iosis dragged their lover down with him, spilling deep inside for a second time. His fingers squeezed upon tailor’s plush arousal, transporting them higher, higher, higher. Teeth tore into him again, drinking tainted blood, suffusing it with gold in its stead.

A touch between souls grabbed at him. Fields, golden fields, Iosis’ fields  _ heaving _ with tall blooms of flowers. Draping, open cups, near white with tyrian purple blotches.  _ Foxgloves. _

_ Foxglove. _

Burnt honey eyes snapped open, panting, woozy yet so keenly aware in the moment even as his body filled the shapeshifter’s with heated release. Trembling fingers reached for the third syringe, already drawn, grasping around it and swiftly puncturing between ribs, its tip settling within Iosis’ heart and plunging the full dose.

Iosis  _ screamed,  _ releasing Nabriales’ shoulder from the hold of their teeth.

Agony and ecstasy snarled together as skin sloughed and  _ boiled _ in bright buttery gold. Its hue paled and plates disappeared in drips and rivulets of aether, some fizzing away into smoke, some flowing away like dry sand. They moaned and sobbed against his shoulder, filling in wounds with aurum hue, leaving scars unmistakably shining with their gilded imprint.

Nabriales mantled the small, plain and unassuming creature. His breaths shook and shuddered, gritting his teeth as his changes boiled away from his body, forced to the surface as they were by the now stabilised aether of his lover.

“Di...Dionysus…” Iosis whimpered, a shivering breath that tickled his ear. Carefully, he pulled the long needle from their chest, dropping it, along with the others, into the sharps container. His arms then slipped around them, one slowly stroking their hair, both Amaurotines coated in sticky aether, blood and fluids of their senseless rutting.

“Hush hush now,” Nabriales whispered back, shifting his hips to withdraw but instead laying atop the trembling shapeshifter, now devoid of even the smallest peculiarities. “I am very proud of you, my delicious little beast,” he paused to catch breath, fingers cradling Iosis’ cheek. “So very proud. What a state,” a shudder, dipping his head low against their shoulder, “-of  _ magnificence _ to see you in.” A gentle kiss to the polymorph’s lips, tender now, he brought them back from the precipice of madness “But tell me, monster mine...Was it as delightful for you as it was me?”

Soft fingers slid around the Majestic’s body, holding onto him, the larger Amaurotine’s weight a comforting pressure against their exhausted body. “Scared at first...but safe, safe with you, my Majestic. Then, just  _ bliss. _ ”

Drips of blood and coalesced aether were almost deafening in the room, the floor almost entirely covered. But neither could muster the physical or aetheric strength to clean it, much less themselves. Their souls wove and tangled, an intimate grasp of hands as the two rode out aftershocks and drew on ambient aether to replace what had been lost. What had been consumed.

“I love you, Dionysus,” Iosis murmured softly, lips tracing over scars turned to gold. Nabriales tilted his head, mouth ghosting where ordinarily horns would be found, his voice barely above a whisper against the cup of the Amaurotine’s ear.

“As I love you,  _ Charon. _ ”


	5. Nobody Else But You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a stressful encounter with their father, Mitron, Iosis returns home to the loving embrace of their husbands.

The first sign of something being wrong was Iosis entering through the door, rather than announcing their arrival with the  _ thud _ of their feet on the balcony. Infact, it was a rare enough thing for the front door to open that Hades darted into the hallway, hastily pulling on his red mask and draping his head and shoulders in a shawl as an approximation of a hood.

“Have we truly foregone knocking on doors in this-  _ Iosis.”  _ the sight of his spouse, robed,  _ plain _ and  _ ordinary _ in the doorway knocked all the air from his chest. The whites of round-pupiled, cherry eyes were flushed with blood and their lids were puffy and sore. They did not speak as they carefully closed the door behind them, showing pale hands with plain nails.

“Iosis, what happened?” Hades asked, the polymorph falling into his arms to hold him tight. The only  _ change _ of their body was simply their size; small and almost frail-looking. He scooped them up against him and stroked their back with his thumb as they silently wept against him, their soul harrowed and frayed. They shook their head against him, and his fingers laced through their hair, combing through it with long digits. “Daeus! Daeus, my love, bring some tea to the living room.”

Hythlodaeus’ head peered round the door from the study, a look of confusion until he saw the look on Iosis’ and Hades’ faces as he brought their spouse to the living room. He hurriedly set about preparing tea, the sounds of ceramics clattering as he piled up a tray.

In the living room, Hades carefully poured Iosis onto the couch, then sat himself, drawing the Amaurotine halfway across him. His mask and cowl were discarded onto a table, and he used his sleeve to softly dab at the gathered moisture on their face, thumbs wiping away more tears threatening to spill.

“Another reprimand?”

Iosis shook their head.

“Did your new iteration fail?”

Another shake.

Hythlodaeus gently set down the tray, cups and teapot resting upon it, the spout of which allowed light curls of steam to escape; smoky scents reaching the noses of all three. His gaze settled upon the pewter-haired shapeshifter, before a look of near  _ horror _ twisted his countenance. “Oh, Iosis, sweetheart,” Hythlodaeus murmured, sliding in next to Iosis, drawing their legs onto his lap and allowing the two men to gently press against either side of them warmly, comfortingly. “It was Mitron, wasn’t it?”

Iosis nodded a fevered affirmative. Hades felt his jaw clench tightly, something of a growl rising in his throat. It had been a long, long time since Iosis had any direct contact with their father and each occasion ended the same. “Were you in your office on your own?” Hades asked. He knew the answer. Mitron always picked times when their office was not occupied by any of the shapeshifter’s paramours. Shaking, Iosis nodded again, burying their face against Hades’ chest.

“He...he came to my office. He said that it was time for me to stop being a child. That I should grow up and put my time to more useful endeavours. He...he said,” Iosis’ voice began to break, “th-that eventually my ‘persistent violation of Amaurotine law’ would be recognised as that...th-that I would have to ‘live a normal life’. He said he kn-knew what I...was working on w-with Elidibus and…” their voice choked, their body trembled and they broke into despaired keening. Hades held them tight though his face was  _ thunderous _ with rage, and even the calmer tempered Hythlodaeus looked as if he could be brought to violence as Iosis’ crying broke into shuddering sobs.

“Iosis, Iosis; sshhh, my dear monster. He cannot follow through on his threats. You have over half the Convocation’s backing in your work. Do you think Lahabrea and Igeyorhm would allow your father to do this? Do you think  _ I _ would? I daresay that Nabriales would bring the entire building down on itself if Mitron  _ tried _ to have you and your work suspended from Akaedemia Anyder.” Hades was softly worded despite how venom rose in his throat, rubbing Iosis’ shoulder as Hythlodaeus slowly combed through their hair with his gentle fingers, gathering parts of it to braid, the gentle toying soothing them from their breakdown.

“But he was  _ there _ in my  _ office. _ My  _ office. _ He was so calm but every word he said made me want to  _ scream _ , but I know he would use that. So I sat. And I listened. He said, before he left, that I need to consider...what is best for Amaurot. That working with Elidibus...that he felt pressured to approve.” they said, swallowing to clear their throat.

“And what is best for Amaurot? Your work and abilities have given so many relief from pain. You provide people with ways to better their understanding of complex biological Concepts. You give people the bodies they knew they were meant to have. And if this project with Elidibus becomes successful, then who  _ knows _ what further wonders that could bring our city.” Hythlodaeus’ words were careful, gentle, his fingers twining together strands of hair into braids, which he then used to gently bring Iosis’ hair up into a ponytail. “You know, the Convocation calls him  _ The Chastiser _ for a reason,” he added with a gentle tease, kissing their forehead and touching a finger to the corner of their mouth as the faintest start of a smile tugged at it.

“I bet he makes you process a lot of Magic Use Violations, right?” Iosis said, almost an upticked note in their voice.

“Even after the ones I filter out, by far the most are in his name.”

“He still watches the skies, you know. Appears for the first time in over a century to try and force me out and yet still finds the time to watch for me. I haven’t flown for weeks. I can still feel them aching, even now,” Iosis murmured, tucking their head under Hades’, and lacing their fingers with Hythlodaeus’.

Hades’ fingers trailed across their scalp, down their neck to their shoulders. “You can relax now, you know. You’re home, safe.” Yet, his request was met with a slow shake of Iosis’ head, who remained small, plain and ordinary.

“Not right now. I can’t, not while his words are still rattling my bones and pulling all my threads.” A soft sound escaped their lips as Hades’ fingers rubbed down their back, upon their shoulderblades where ordinarily the muscles twisted and bones shifted to where they became the polymorph’s wings. Even without, he could feel the tenseness of muscles, how sore they were from underuse.

Hythlodaeus poured the spiced tea into the mug, adding milk and sugar and slipping the ceramic into Iosis’ soft hands, who hissed a bit as thinner skin could not tolerate the same heat. “When was your last trip to the lakehouse?”

They shrugged slightly, frowning as they thought, sipping the tea and letting out a long breath they had not realised they were holding. “Three years, maybe? You know I’ve been busy trying to get this matrix working.”

“My dear that sounds like the  _ perfect _ reason to take some time off. I am quite sure the Majestic would  _ love _ another one of your sojourns,” Hades said with a soft chuckle.

Iosis’ brows raised a bit, leaning to look Hades in the eye, gold meeting cherry, and in aether cherry meeting gold. “Encouraging me to take time off with Nabriales is new. Who are you and what have you done with my Hades?”

Soft lips laid onto their forehead, a kiss of aether with it. His mouth moved gently on skin as he whispered a soft confession. “I do trust him, you know. Even if he is your source of  _ terrible _ ideas.”

Aether and voice twined as soft laughter rose from the polymorph’s throat, soft, blunt teeth grinning and gentle lips laying upon Hades in a fond kiss, then leaning to repeat the same on Hythlodaeus. “I love you,” they trilled softly to both, the three curling arms around each other, shrouding Iosis safely. Ginger hair spilled across one shoulder, and auburn-streaked white across the other, gold beads ornamenting both.

“You never have need to be anybody other than you, my little monster,” Hades said softly. “No matter who walks into your office.”

The exhaustion of the day, of the encounter dragged at Iosis, their head falling slowly back onto the shoulders of their husbands, cherry eyes slipping shut. Both men stayed quiet until their breathing changed, a relieved smile pulling onto Hades’ face as gold aether spilled in threads from their body to return horns, tail, talons and claws. Serrated dentition peeked from their lip and they finally  _ relaxed _ , drifting into deep slumber.

“You did well staying calm, Hades,” Hythlodaeus noted with a smile to his husband, softly catching his lips. The Convocation member huffed lightly, gently tangling the fingers of one hand around the tapered end of Iosis’ tail.

“By the grace of you and you alone was I able,” he purred back, a smile and a soft kiss, the two resting their heads together, a steeple over lacquered horns. Shelter for one who had weathered an ocean storm.


	6. Lakehouse - NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nabriales and Iosis take a trip out to the polymorph's refuge outside of Amaurot, after an encounter with Mitron leaves them emotionally raw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows directly on from Chapter 5!

“Well, it’s hardly the most stimulating of activities; I must admit however, the view is quite delicious,” Nabriales called as he strode down the slope to the lake, where Iosis sat at its edge, feet lazily swishing in crystal clear water, sun shining on skin to reveal gilt flecks, completely bare as they were.

The polymorph  _ giggled _ , bracketed by golden yellow crocuses, their long leathery tail plucking one and tucking it into their hair, completing their crown of sunny flora that rest around their head like a halo. “I too, find the lake quite delightful, my handsome bird.” They smiled as the Majestic settled next to them, warm skin and the soft tickle of feather-scales gliding against their own body as he drew them back against him.

“Come now, Io~oo~sis, are you truly playing so coy with me, looking as ravishing as you are?” His lips graced their neck, their jaw and horns, drawing comforted sounds and pleased trills from his lover. “How  _ ever _ did you convince the Most Eminent to let me take you out of the city alone?” he teased, lips pulling into a grin that showed a snaggle of sharp tooth.

With their lips pursed, Iosis made a dismissive, sputtering sound, tapping the side of Nabriales’ head with a horn. “I’ll have you know that this trip was  _ his _ idea and he  _ encouraged _ me to ask you,” they chided, their tail looping around his waist and across his chest to caress his jaw as their arms lazily clasped onto his, thumbs stroking soft skin, smoothing down gleaming feathers. “Besides, I think you can learn to enjoy taking things slowly.”

“You wound me. I have taken you slowly  _ many _ times, my little monster,” Nabriales purred, laying his chin on their shoulder, sideburns tickling the edges of Iosis’ ears. At the sight of the polymorph’s cheeks reddening, his grin pulled higher, yelping as they kicked a foot upwards to splash him with cool water from the lake. “Uncalled for! You accuse me of being an inattentive lover and you  _ attack _ me when I correct you?” His voice lilted in melodrama, falling onto his back and dragging Iosis down onto the grass with him, tickling them with sparks of crimson levin across their sides. In return, between fits of laughter, Iosis turned their tools onto him, pulling at threads without a single touch that made the Majestic break into laughter, the two escalating their assaults until-

“Mercy! Mercy! Ha-hahah- _ mer-r-r-r-cyyyy!! _ ” Iosis cried between bouts of laughter, fighting off his hands as he sat atop their hips, gasping for air as the triumphant Majestic relented, holding his hands up and away.

“Flushed and out of breath; my favourite way to gaze upon you. Had I known sooner I would have employed this method befo-” Nabriales was cut off by the wet slap of the shapeshifter’s spade-tipped tail on his cheek.

Iosis pointed threateningly, still catching their breath. “Don’t...don’t you  _ dare!” _ Their warning tone and gestures were met with mirthful, toothsome smile, Nabriales catching the gesturing hand to lay soft kisses on each knuckle, a slow rub of his thumb into their palm as both naked Amaurotines rolled to settle on their sides. Breath calming, Iosis trailed their free hand along Nabriales’ jaw, pads of their fingers smoothing hair where it had been mislain in their tussle. They could feel the careful weight of tyrian purple against the frayed fibres of gold, letting his aether carefully smooth and with but a whisper of venom, numb the sore grazes left from their encounter with Mitron. “This is nice,” they finally spoke, pressing their head into his palm as it slid against their cheek. “We haven’t been out here in a long time.”

It was a pity the impetus for them to have returned to Iosis’ hidden retreat was of pain rather than of joy or relaxation, but the burdens of the city always melted from Iosis once they were outside its borders. Nabriales dipped his head, tilting Iosis’ chin up to press his lips to theirs in a slow kiss, eyes fluttering closed as the polymorph’s tongue slipped against his, mouths and tongues embracing just as arms and legs, a slow and considering display of affection that he held until a soft ‘ah!’ broke from his lips, taking a slow breath as he held Iosis to him. “You are quite too scrumptious for your own good, I hope you realise,” he teased, fingers sliding to squeeze at their hip. “Especially all laid out for my eyes to feast upon.”

Iosis hummed an amused sound, smile pulling into a grin and kissing his nose, fingers similarly lazily exploring across the Majestic’s skin, freckled with outcroppings of smooth iridescent feathers, the beginnings of talons not unlike the shapeshifter’s on his fingers. Their gaze wandered with their hands, the now-familiar feeling of their tailor’s tools skimming the aether of his body, mapping every part of it out, every thread, lingering on the single spool of gold woven into his fabric. “It’s practically second nature now, isn’t it?” A question without answer as they squirmed to prop themself up, looking at the sky, threads of gold testing the air, the weather. With a hopeful smile, their gaze returned to Nabriales. “Would you like to go flying?”

His fingers cradled their jaw, relieved to see such an earnest smile despite pain he had shored up, pressing himself up to join them, untangling limbs so both may sit, knees pressed together, always somehow in contact. “I was beginning to worry you would never ask.” The smile on Iosis’ face turned impish, wings forming in swirls of gold, using the extra limbs to get to their feet. A game. A chase.

“To the other side of the lake, then!” They did not tease to be caught, but the way their feet sprung on the grass in giddy backsteps before wind twisted and wings unfurled, the gust almost pulling Nabriales with them told him all he needed to know. They were aloft before he could even stand, grand sails carrying them across the water. But they were right. It had become second nature; after all, he had more than a century of practice. His body coated itself in gleaming feathers, the skin of his back peeling to let mottled, iridescent and bright rusty feathers free. A train of verdant green and eyes brushing the ground before in a downbeat he bid his body give chase, a ferryman guiding their charge across stygian waters.

It wasn’t long before he caught up to Iosis, trying to playfully pull their tail but finding deft wings tipping his goal out of his grasp, again and again, the polymorph leading him in slalom and loop, but never so high that the peacock could not follow, held lower by shimmering train, the two climbing and then tumbling, skimming the water and rising again, a beeline chase to their destination.

In a climb, Iosis realised Nabriales had left their sight, not even able to spot him in their periphery. The ripple of water had all but stopped, a breaching fish suspended with water reflecting like gems in the air, petals captured in a dance in a breeze that had ceased. His singsong of their name hit their ears a moment too late as he crashed into them from above, sending the two plummeting. But he held them tight, and his own bright plumes caught the air, breaking the fall. Panic changed to realisation, distress turned to trust, and the polymorph’s wings sublimed away, stabilising them both as he, instead, bore them passage. Gentle talons held them secure, and he teased them softly, “So, the student has bested their master, I see. Now, would that make me  _ yours? _ You have always been such a good pet.”

_ “Dionysus!” _ Iosis blurted with flushed laughter, knowing better than to go for a playful strike as he brought them down at the edge of the water, on soft, bright grass. Setting them down, he used their hand to gently twirl them to face him, pulling them close again and shrouding Iosis with his wings, combing through their hair with the fingers of one hand as the other braced them against him.

“Ah, every time I hear you speak my name, it fair makes my heart sing,” he sighed, a smile and a soft kiss to each of their ridged horns making them trill with pleasure. A flick of his wrist, soft blanket coating the ground as he slowly brought them both down to sit, the two gazing out at the view to the other side of the water, where with the setting sun, the swathes of crocuses Iosis grew began to shimmer, motes of glowing pollen illuminating their little patch of safety. A small cabin, its own lights illuminating its porch, filigree of opal-like aether glinting like stars along the facing of the building, wooden and cozy. Within, the windows lit up with the light of a steady hearth. “We may be past our due date, my dear Charon, but I say the wait was quite worth it. After all, one wouldn’t want to  _ overindulge _ on a sight such as this.”

“Not so sure. I think I could look out at this view every day for-You’re talking about me again, aren’t you, Dio?” They looked up to his entertained countenance, burnt honey eyes catching fading wisps of sun giving way for the silvering of the moon.

“Always, Charon. Always.”

Iosis laughed softly, curling their tail about his waist as they settled in between his thighs to watch the last of the gold of sun give way to the silver of moon. “We both know  _ overindulge _ is not a word in your dictionary of life,” they said, the only reply a gentle hum and squeeze to their hip. The spread of crocuses having grown far in their absence, freckles of them growing in petals of new hues; of blue-hued purple, of regal tyrian, of cherry and of pale silver-white, and soon from their perch the rolling fields of blooms tied in with the Amaurotine’s soul turned into a softly glowing nebula.

“Speaking of indulgences,” Nabriales started, idly stroking the tip of one of Iosis’ horns, “I have brought quite a fine vintage with me. It would be a dreadful shame were I to have it all to myself. Perhaps I can interest you in sharing?” His words had a playful cadence, and fingers drew lazily on their waist, cradling its faint curve.

“I’d be upset if you said you had greedier intentions.”

Nabriales’ smile pulled to a grin. “Then ere long, we shall return to the cabin and enjoy some quality time with a  _ very _ fine vintage.”

Ere long, the two Amaurotines rose from their position as the chill of night grew more than bare skin could bear, a blanket whisked away and wings unfurling once more to catch calm air, a leisurely flight back, wingtips catching and bumping as the two remained close. As the shore of crocus-laden fields grew closer, Iosis’ head tilted. A figure on the porch of their cabin. Bare, unmasked but with  _ unmistakable  _ hair spun of moonlight, their gaze looked to Nabriales, who laughed warmly. “I never said what the vintage  _ was _ , Charon. I do hope you will not hold it against me; maybe something else?”

Skipping a few steps on their landing, tucking wings down, they jogged up to the cabin, tripping over steps in their haste as they launched into Elidibus’ arms, the white-haired man catching and holding them close. “Full glad am I to hear you with such joy, my beloved tailor.” Infuriated by Mitron’s rash actions against Iosis and the damage it had inflicted, he had expected to find the polymorph broken and sullen, not smiling and joyful. “But, ah. I see now why you asked of me to not arrive til after sunset, Nabriales.” Waters of cool spring skimmed against gold coated with royal purple, frayed threads just beneath, realising Nabriales had taken the worst of Iosis’ pain so that he may not have to bear to see the worst of it. He would see such damage undone before long. For now, though, he brought Iosis into a soft kiss, fingers stroking their cheek, and though they were much calmed and soothed, he heard how notes strained, some slightly off key.

Wings and feathers fading in curls of tyrian purple smoke, Nabriales curled his fingers under Elidibus’ chin, gently parting the two for his own lips to take the place of Iosis’, the Emissary making a soft, muffled noise as the polymorph’s kisses trailed to his neck, the two lavishing him with affection. Before it became too much, Nabriales parted with a smile, a sharp tooth pulling at his lip. “You came dressed appropriately for the trip, I see.”

Elidibus smiled and gave a slow shrug. “I am an Emissary. Abiding customs and  _ dress codes _ is but part of my role.” His smile tugged higher on one side, each hand softly stroking thumbs across the cheeks of both his partners. “Confessedly, I have never had to conform to a dress code such as  _ this. _ Come, shall we warm our bones? I took the liberty of preparing us a bath.”

Giddy, beaming with a smile of jagged teeth, Iosis’ hands slipped to grasp one of each, leading the two into their cabin.

Inside, the wood was lit by the warm light of aether lamps and the hearth. Behind a screen, a bath awaited, languid curls of steam escaping from the water’s surface. Nabriales gently broke the hold to stride to cabinets, taking out glasses and a bottle with a label far, far older than he. “The fine vintage brought a fine vintage, I see. Always with such  _ excellent _ taste, my love,” Nabriales joked softly to Elidibus, carefully uncorking the bottle and pouring a tawny liquid into the three glasses, its age and sweetness clear in how it clung to the sides of its vessel. There was no answer but he heard the soft voice of the Emissary as the two settled into the bath, felt how frayed gold began to knit back together, old reopened wounds mended by the melody of Elidibus.

“He would sooner find himself removed from the Convocation than you removed from your position, dear Iosis,” Elidibus reassured, a soft and lingering kiss to their forehead, the polymorph embraced against him, straddled across his thighs. “Yet, he will understand you before long.”

A thread strained but was soothed and smoothed back into place by the soft song of the musician, freeing a hand from his embrace with Iosis to pass a glass onto them before taking his own. Water shifting, Nabriales settled in alongside Elidibus with a content sigh, glasses resounding in a toast before an almost-silence set upon the three, bar the sound of water from the hot spring keeping the bath warm and clear.

Bar the sound of three songs only audible to the Emissary.

“Would you like to hear?” Elidibus started, taking a slow sip of wine, woody, plummy and sweet all at once. “I think you would find it enjoyable.”

Pointed ears lifted slightly, a faint trill of curiosity. Iosis looked to Nabriales, honey and cherry meeting for a silent confirmation, and then both sets of eyes moved to the Emissary, both nodding quietly. Elidibus’ lips curled into a gentle smile and he closed his eyes, an exhale as his aether gently curled around the both. A united symphony, individual instruments somehow having found a single song to settle upon before they even knew; adoration, comfort and love for one another, the devotion of polymorph, majesty and musician tangling in complex melody. The gentle chords of piano and soft beat of drum joined by the cthonic voice of the monstrous.

Sips of wine, affectionate squeezes and loving kisses exchanged between three, songs growing louder as Nabriales and Iosis impulsively, light-heartedly and yet  _ intensely _ fought to be the  _ most _ devoted, the most in love with the other two, until Elidibus broke into peals of laughter, quieting each in turn with a catch of lips, their concert growing calmer once more. “How remarkable you both are. I would say your propensity towards cacophony is a side effect of bearing a spool of our tailor’s aether, Nabriales, yet you were like this  _ centuries _ before you met.”

“My, my, you speak such cruel words with such a handsome voice, dear Emissary,” Nabriales said, chuckling softly as his fingers slid along Elidibus’ collarbones to comb through dense locks of shimmering white hair. Cheeks flushed with alcohol, the two shared a flash of teeth in their smiles, a press of foreheads, before their attentions turned to Iosis, lips and fingers laying affection onto the youngest of the three, kisses and grazes of the Convocation members’ teeth on each side of their neck; the Majestic’s thumb rubbing across ridges of their horns and the Emissary’s fingers caressing the base of their tail until finally they let free a needful moan, the pitch of Iosis’ song dipping to become a bassy harmony.

A gentle squeeze to their tail, fingers wandering to caress across thigh, Elidibus’ lips grazed their ear with a soft whisper, “Ever have you been my favourite instrument to play.” Despite their difference in height and mass, it was with ease that the musician lifted Iosis with him as he stood, carrying them with him to leave the warmth of the bath. Dextrous tip curling around the wrist of Nabriales, they tugged him along, dilated pupils mirthful and their song, while wanton, also loving and joyful. Low humming dried skin and hair, the hearth driving away what other brief chill tried to set in.

“I can walk, you know,” Iosis pretended to protest, legs firmly wrapped around Elidibus’ waist. Gentle fingers slid through their glossy pewter hair, as their own taloned fingers gently teased the ribbon holding the plait of Elidibus’ hair free, plinks of silver beads falling to the floor. Needle teeth teased at their neck, keeping them held tight as he slid onto the warm bed, heaped with plush cushions and heavy blankets, a decadent amount that seemed excessive. Back against the wall, he brought Iosis to settle straddled across his hips, a soft inhale as stirring flesh met the warmth of the shapeshifter’s folds. A firm rub to the underside of their tail, close to its base drew a groan that they went to muffle with a hand, but were kept away by the firm grip of the Majestic, pressing his chest against their back, letting his desire be known as it pressed against them.

“No more than us here, my love. Sing as loud as you desire to,” Nabriales whispered, letting go of their hands to reach one to a horn, and the other to their arousal, a rub of thumb on keratin and a slow squeeze of fingers on plush flesh. A sharp cry escaped their mouth, rolling their hips against the stiffening Emissary, slickness making each movement smoother, easier. Another rub of the scorpion’s digits, and their voice and song rejoined the other two, loud and blissful as the caresses of four hands pushed their fervor higher.

Elidibus’ lips found theirs, his hips rolling up against the polymorph’s folds as they rocked against him, needle teeth grazing and teasing their bottom lip as clawed nails teased along deep slashmark scars, swallowing their cries, turning each sound into another piece to their orchestra. When their hips shifted, the tip of their tail alighting just to steady him before sinking down to his hilt it was  _ Elidibus _ that broke the kiss to let free a broken moan, the aether lamps of the cabin flickering as his influence spread past they three. A pleased hum sounded from Iosis as they settled and adjusted within, slow rocks that barely moved but continued to please. Their song craved little more, no fervent movement, no viciousness of teeth and claws, just this slow, comforting intimacy. 

The sunny gold of their soul spilled free from its vessel’s boundaries, unguarded as silvery white and tyrian purple gladly joined, three settling upon the hill of golden fields, crowns of crocus, nightshade and hibiscus ornamenting three Amaurotines, surrounded by gardens of the very same, shaded by pomegranate trees, three souls as one.

Pressing closer, Nabriales freed his hand from Iosis’ horns to draw the Emissary closer, his lips brushing, grazing and then sealing on the other man’s, sharp fangs tugging at the lips of Elidibus, tongue slipping into the Emissary’s mouth and sweeping his, the mildest application of bittersweet aether behind it, drawing back to tilt Iosis’ head to draw them into the same intoxicating kiss, a soft shiver as the shapeshifter tasted both men in the kiss, gladly swallowing down the venom offered.

The Majestic’s fingers, aether slick and warm, teased slowly at the polymorph’s stretched entrance, a soft, comforting hushing as with unusual patience, Nabriales caressed and slipped his fingers against tender flesh and the Emissary’s, drawing a moan from both as he slowly worked Iosis, the hue of blankets shifting beneath the three of them. Aurum drool began to flow from their mouth, Elidibus slowly lapping and kissing it away, humming softly, keeping them stable as pleasure began to replace any pain that may have burdened them, their heart driving mild venom through their body.

“I have  _ always _ loved you, Charon,” Elidibus whispered, stifling a moan as another of Nabriales’ fingers slipped tightly against his arousal, pumping slowly, aether easing them open further. His fingers squeezed firmly at the base of their tail, Iosis whimpering as their body clenched around digits and shaft, the end section of their tail thrashing against the bed for a moment, a sharp breath out. Gilt flecks under their skin gleamed in the light of flickering aether lamps and as they finally relaxed, cherry eyes glowed as the coals on the hearth, all three lids fluttering open. “Down to every last scale upon your skin,” he added, hips pushing upwards, the two moaning in tandem. “Each stray leitmotif on another soul, every lingering note upon a book. Ever, always.” His words begun to stutter, soft shivering breaths, smiling against them.

The pressure of Nabriales’ fingers relented, a soft breath escaping Iosis mouth before he pressed tight against their back, the fingers that had worked them returning to their arousal, and the other steadying his need as he eased himself within alongside Elidibus. Deep breaths heaved into the shapeshifter as the tightness was almost too much, but not quite. Rocking back against Nabriales, their voice broke hoarsely, “Please...I need you,” and the Majestic could only groan in response as he was all too eager to do just so, his hips pushing firmly, slowly hilting himself within.

Strings drew tight in a single note as the three held each other close, Iosis in a tight embrace between, shared panting breaths, souls commingling, sinking into one another aetherically and bodies adjusting. One of Elidibus’ hands strayed to the base of a wing, using it to pull Iosis firmly down against both bodies, rocking them between the two. “Ko-ohh-oh--Kokopelli..!” Iosis moaned, any further cries taken by the Emissary, a vibrating  _ purr _ against their body to hear his name spoken with ardor. His song suffused down to their bones, just as Iosis’ aetheric talons softly roamed along the threads of Nabriales, the three mingling aether and exploring intimately on every level.

  
Gentle kisses and squeezes of hands made their body squeeze and clench around the arousals within, sharp exhalations accenting each time but both drawing only more of the same. No rush, no hurry, but only bliss as the three slowly rocked together.

Two shapeshifters turned their aetheric attentions upon the Majestic, tailor’s tools grasped in tandem by Elidibus, guiding their touch deeper, past physical to the soul where they could not reach alone, settling upon the spool of gold borrowed and woven in. Slow thrusts pulled from Nabriales that drove delighted sounds from the others, but sparks of gold and silver crackled in the air in a moment of joint sight - a melodious unvoiced conversation in the slow throes of passion between the two born to bodies made to change. Needles threaded with moon and sun, joined by royalty as a song’s script, whispered into Iosis’ ear with a silver tongue, guided by argent hands, was embroidered into the fabric of Nabriales very soul; a careful snip of fine shears taking, adjusting, replacing with gold and silver.

Iosis shuddered between the two as their aether strained with each stitch, and with a careful tug, pulled free the spool that had been borne by the Majestic for over a century, but not before the touch of Nabriales gently broke off a tiny section, allowing the tailor to place a stitch of their soul, binding them to Nabriales. Missing thread replaced by strands of the polymorph’s lover, tyrian purple stitching closed the last missing sections of a soul that had spent so long fractured by choice.

“Em...embroidery,” Iosis whispered, an open-mouthed smile as they let out a soft, breathy laugh for not realising sooner. It was not to cut, to sew a garment, but to add, to give something the body had not held prior. Something the soul, untouchable to Iosis, had not held prior.

His body was truly, fully his own, and his voice no more than a quavering whisper, Nabriales brought his lips to the edge of Iosis’ ear. “Thank you.”

Only but a moment of stillness before his need, the ferverence of both began to reach a boiling point, bodies moving in slow but firm thrusts that made Iosis draw breathy gasps that would escape again as moans, rolling their hips back against them both as the hands of both found their horns, arousal and tail, playing every nerve to make the monster between them  _ sing _ .

“Please, please, I,” Iosis started, their thighs flexing and tightening as their pleasure began to crest. Their tail thrashed and their heart began to climb into their throat with its beats, each drum of it palpable in their fingers. As they were so sure their peak was about to arrive, the wanton gropes of hands relented, leaving them flushed, gasping and moaning in desperation. “ _ Please! _ ” they begged, their arousal throbbing against the stilled fingers of Elidibus. They attempted to turn their tools onto themself, held just out of reach by the playful tune of the Emissary, who sealed his lips on theirs to drink each desperate sound, turning it into a feedback loop for Iosis who could only cry more until their senses began to fail.

Nabriales was the first to lose himself, with a sharp bite to their shoulder as his hips pushed tight against theirs, emptying himself within, naught more than a sharp grunt and sigh as he did. His fingers found the collarbones of Elidibus, pressing firmly on the matching hues of notes, drawing across with aether to sound the leitmotif of Iosis’ song, then upon the throat of the tailor, the same motion of aether, sounding the melody of the Emissary.

It is enough to undo them both, falling with the Majestic soon after with harmonised cries, Iosis’ abdomen flexing as their peak rendered them temporarily deaf and blind as stars burst behind their eyes and their heartbeat drowned all other sound. Warmth spilled within them once more and they arched their back before collapsing forward into Elidibus.

Darkness meets their eyes when they open again, the lamps burnt out in the cry of Elidibus’ peak, only the dim flicker of the hearth supplying them with the faint shapes of their lovers. Muffled, they hear the two talking between themselves, adoring cadences, soft touches to their body as they become the subject for a moment, and then the focus as the musician is the first to speak: “Welcome back, my beloved Charon.” He tilts their head gently, thumb stroking their cheek and where they expect to feel it slicked by drooled gilt aether, it is dry. Nor is there any dripped from their lips at all in their climax. A mute, testing shift of their hips, a shiver as they realise both are still hilted within, stiffness fading slowly.

Whatever pain had brought the three of them out was forgotten, the simple contented melody surrounding them, cradled by the music and weave of the star itself as bodies slipped apart, only to huddle close together once again, crashing to lay upon the bed.

Before long, peals of relieved, tearful laughter were heard from Elidibus, stroking Iosis’ cheek. “You did it.”

A gentle huff of air puffed from their nose, pressing their head into the palm on their cheek. “ _ We _ did, Pelly,” they correct with a soft kiss, shifting to better embrace the two, Elidibus settling his head on their chest and Nabriales at their jaw. Testing, Iosis rang out a note they could not reach in the hundred years they had lent a fragment of their soul out to the Majestic. But his body was fully his own now,  _ his _ body, recast to fit who he was by his hand alone.

Slowly, as the buzz of nerves faded, the lamps of the house flickered back to life, illuminating the nested three, quiet now, eyes periodically drifting shut as they basked in their shared afterglow. Quiet it remained for some time, until a soft knock on the door sounded, the gold beads of braided hair and a river of copper coming into view as Hythlodaeus and Hades stepped in.

Nabriales’ eyes drifted open, smiling at the two, glad for their presence. “Full glad you could make it. I apologise that you have missed tonight’s bacchanalia, however,” he teased. Further words were muted by a soft kiss from Hythlodaeus, settling in with him, drawing blankets up, laying a hand across to rest on Iosis’ thigh.

Hades could not help the tired grin on his face, sliding in to caress Elidibus’ side, easily finding his mark and softly plucking it, a soft murmur rising from the Emissary. “Tonight’s? Do you mean to tell me this will begin again tomorrow?”

“Creation willing,” Elidibus murmured, gently drawing Hades in, lips finding the other’s, held for a moment as four settled around Iosis now, shrouding, cushioning and most importantly, giving them the things they had been denied. That tried to be denied once again. Acceptance, safety, confidence and  _ love _ of themself.

None needed to speak any longer, touches and melodies exchanged all that needed to be known. In endless golden fields, five Amaurotines settled under the shade of a tree, crowns of flora ornamenting all, the dirt in which their roots may grow, and the right to call it home.


	7. Good Morning - NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After passing out in their office while working, Nabriales takes Iosis home to sleep.
> 
> Then they bang because this is Gilt, Aurum, Gold and this entire complication is just Gorse Wants To Write Ascianfucking.

Cherry eyes flutter open after a few false starts, the light of the morning harsh in a well-windowed room that was certainly not the office they remember being in last. Warm arms wrapped around them and they bury their face against a chest that rumbles with amused laughter.

“Good morning, little monster,” Nabriales teases, running his hands through silky steel hair, kissing each of their horns to make them sigh with comfort. Their own hands find the soft, feathery hair of the Majestic and they smile contently.

“This isn’t my office,” they state groggily, huddling closer, feeling skin on skin.

Nabriales laughs, his hands roaming slowly down bare body, dancing across scars. “Quite the observation, darling. You are at mine; I discovered you passed out, face down in an inkwell. As your face, talons, and your robes needed cleansing, I could not simply leave you on your couch. So, I brought you back to mine abode, where I washed you and your robes. All without waking, I hasten to add. How long had you been awake?”

They blink a few times, thinking, but not finding an answer other than a slow shrug. “I know you respect the Speaker greatly but taking on  _ these _ habits is hardly becoming of the most esteemed Iosis,” Nabriales says, cupping their cheek and drawing them into a slow kiss. Soon, tongues slip against each other, two shapeshifters murmuring soft pleased noises until a twitching warmth presses against Iosis’ belly, Nabriales breaking the kiss with a soft, shivering breath. “Are you  _ trying _ to rouse me into taking you right here and now, Io~oo~sis?”

Mirthful, their eyes squint with their smile. “I never  _ try _ to rouse your interest, my love. You clearly just find me irresistable.”

“An accusation I could never hope to deny, nor would I  _ wish  _ to.”

A gentle touch of talons against heated flesh pressing against a softly curved belly draws a moan from the Majestic. Iosis’ lips caress his jaw, his neck, his chest, Nabriales realising each one slips lower and lower on his body in a way that makes his need kick with excitement, pre gathering at plush head. Lips reach his belly, kisses lingering, fingers spreading across toned skin as they gently push him onto his back, crouching over the top of him. The ghost of a touch at his tip, tapered tongue lapping pre from his cock makes Nabriales gasp softly.

“Iosis, I do not mean to decline but I-” his protestation is cut short, the polymorph realising his concern and flashing him a grin of completely  _ plain, average _ Amaurotine teeth. They wait, however, fingers slowly and gently working his arousal until he moans with a soft smile. “Mmh, carry on then, flesh tailor.”

Gentle, soft lips close around his head, a firm lap of tongue and a few testing bobs that teased the rim of his glans, making him twitch and let out a breathy sigh as they did. Then, slowly descending, tongue slipping from their mouth to wet and slick throbbing, hot flesh as they carefully take him to his hilt, swallowing around his tip as it slips into their throat. He remains still, so very still as not to discomfort the shapeshifter, but letting out a broken moan all the same as wet, adoring warmth surrounds his need. Just as soon as his cock met that warmth, it slowly withdraws, all the way to his tip where Iosis sucks gently, fingers squeezing around his shaft and with a soft gasp, rewarding them with a spill of precum.

“You have been holding -ah!- yet more - _ oh! _ \- ta-a-aahh-lents out on me, shapeshif-f-fffter,” Nabriales teases between soft gasps as their tongue flicks his tip, swirling and coiling to tease and make him shiver beneath them. One of his hands comes to rest softly atop their head, between horns, and with a soft, urging push, has them take him nearly to his hilt once more with a low, long groan. Pressure on their head relents, and they draw back once again to toy lips and tongue at his head a long stroke of slippery muscle at his slit causing him to squirm, his free hand fisting into the sheets. The other firmly grips a horn and with a slow and gentle movement, his hips rise, pressing himself within if only by a couple of inches before withdrawing, and then repeating the motion.

Iosis lets him set a slow pace, taking their face sweetly and carefully, fingers gliding up his sides to feel the tremble of muscles as his hips roll upwards, their tongue slipping against the underside of his shaft firmly. A firm, insistent rub to their horn has them muffledly moan around his shaft, Nabriales sucking in a hot breath as the vibration set nerves on fire, a sharp, sudden buck making Iosis tense slightly. He takes a few breaths, loosening his grip and meeting the cherry gaze of the polymorph, fingers running through molten pewter hair spilling across his pelvis.

Letting them draw back up, a long and slow lap to their shaft and a suckling kiss to the slit of his cock, he cradles their face a moment. “You are alright, Iosis?” he asks, answered with a soft nod and an impish smile, warm fingers squeezing around his aching need.

“Nabriales, my darling, you ask as if I’ve never sucked somebody off before.”

He is not given time to retort as their mouth slips back over, his hips meeting to rise the warmth of their mouth, gripping hair close to their scalp and slowly rocking his hips against them. “Never m-oh-oh….Iosis, yes, that again- Never me before,” he retorts, and his attempts to talk further fade into soft, pleased sounds as his hips push upwards. Iosis leads him into increasing his pace and occasionally holds his hips firm to stop him as their lips draw up to caress and tease his tip. Each time they rise to the head of his cock his fingers rub demandingly at a horn, making them groan and causing stars to burst behind his eyes as the vibration makes flesh throb with spills of pre.

“Close, tailor,” Nabriales growls, his head pushed back into pillows and his spine arching upwards, abdomen flexing as he feels his peak approach, thigh muscles quaking. He feels a gentle touch of tailor’s tools, a faint sensation of  _ permission _ being asked, and feverishly nods an affirmative.

In an instant, what was once an assured peak is  _ held _ , threads twisted and hooked into by talons, and he  _ groans _ beneath them, breaths turning ragged as with a grip to a horn, he holds their head in place to shallowly thrust, his head starting to spin as being denied, held at the knife edge of the crest drives him past sense. Pointed ears hear the first whimper of overstimulation and they slip down to his hilt, nose brushing sandy curls of hair, swallowing firmly, again and again and again.

“Ch-Charon…” Nabriales gasps, his hips held firmly down, only able to give the smallest shifts of his hips, a ragged cry as a gentle pressure around his cock makes it  _ throb _ as if peaking but still out of his reach. His nails scrape at Iosis’ scalp, and they let him push them  _ hard _ against his body, trembling fully and wholly.

But they do not push  _ him _ too far, and with a few slow bobs, threads are released, the Majestic drawing a sudden gasp, let out as almost stifled huffs of bliss as he spills down Iosis’ throat. He lets go of the pressure on their head, arms falling slack as his peak consumes every sense in its highest moments. Iosis swallows diligently, drinking down the first few pulses of hot release before slipping back, allowing the rest to spill in their mouth and collect on their tongue. 

Languidly, with a slowness that makes Nabriales shiver and curl his toes, their mouth leaves his shaft, settling beside and catching his lips with theirs. His tongue dives past their lips and it is with a shiver that he tastes, drinks of himself, savouring Iosis alongside. Fingers comb through liquid metal hair, and he pulls them tight against him, still panting through his nose in aftershocks. Tongues slip and mouths move against each other for some time, tasting each other, until a firm warmth against Nabriales’ side makes him draw back, tilting his head with a curious gleam in his eyes.

Iosis nearly blushes to their ears, their own hardness weeping against him. “Dionysus, would...You let me have you? Like this?”

He smiles, cradling their cheek and letting his lips part in soft pleasure before it turns to the teeth of a grin. “My most  _ dear _ Charon. Wherever pleasures and delights may be found with you, I would join you gladly. That you would want…” he breaks off into a soft chuckle, thankful that the bright hue of exhaustion covers the blush prickling his cheeks. He kisses them once again, just for a moment. “I am as much yours as you are mine, my delicious monster.”

The Majestic’s fingers softly curl around Iosis’ shaft, their head ducking with a stifled moan as he slowly explores its length and girth. “Unused to the sensation, yes? Still very new and,” he squeezes slowly, pulling a blissful mewl from the tailor’s lips, “ever so sensitive.” A gentle kiss to their forehead, leaning his head to whisper to pointed ear - “ _ I know. _ ”

A pause. A moment of thought goes past Iosis’ face that must read clear as day to Nabriales as he smiles and gives a tease to the slit of their arousal, making them quake against him. “Must you always hear shame in the words of others? Ever have I known fully of your  _ fluidity _ , and loved you all the more for it. My only surprise is that you never toyed with your body in this way sooner.” Another slow tease and Iosis’ head drops to the side with a low groan, smearing slick pre across their head.

“Do not think my wish is for you to be  _ unsated. _ So, please, Charon.”

A moment passes.

“You will not hear me beg you again.”

Cherry eyes open, finding burnt orange. Trepidation does not last for long as the two share amused huffs, pressing foreheads together. “But you sound so  _ handsome _ when you beg, Dio.”

Iosis’ fingers wander slowly, scales and talons fading to soft skin and clipped nails, slipping between Nabriales’ legs. A shimmer of gold aether coats them thickly and before long digits sink against his entrance, drawing a soft, shivering breath from the Majestic. Working slowly, one finger is joined by a second, thrusting with care, Nabriales’ composure betrayed by the soft gasp as their fingers press upon his prostate, caressing again, again, again,  _ again- _

And then relent, withdrawing. Iosis places a soft kiss on his cheek, shifting once more to mantle his body with theirs, steadying themself before slowly sinking in against an aether-slicked entrance. They shiver and groan as they do, hands fisting into sheets and tearing threads. Nabriales makes hushing sounds, his own hands alighting onto their hips and  _ pulling _ them against him so Iosis hilts fully within, the two moaning softly.

“Mmh, by your face and your trembling you almost seem like you have never taken somebody before,” he teases, before their eyes meet and he realises the truth is just that. His hand brushes their cheek, drawing them down to kiss softly, sweetly.  _ “Oh, Charon _ …”

They shake their head softly, hushing him from further soporific comments. Drawing back, their hips push forward again, a slow, full and  _ gentle _ thrust as they shiver through it. Their lips find the shimmers of gold kintsugi on his shoulder, kissing as his fingers press softly against the puncture scars on their spine, still alive with his aether and making them fizz with levin. It causes Iosis’ hips to buck sharply, a gasp from the polymorph and a pleased groan from Nabriales who whispers a soft ‘again’ to them.

And, drawing their hips back, they sink sharply against him, a hand on their hip guiding their rhythm as both shiver again. Nabriales groans as his own arousal stirs once more, drooling pre with each press of Iosis’ cock to his prostate that makes him squeeze around them. Of all the concerts of delightful sounds he has heard Iosis make none have quite been like this, stuttered grunts and desperate mewls with each thrust, spilling gouts of pre that make each full thrust of their hips easier.

Their lips find his; soft, short and feverish kisses as their peak builds, movements grinding the mild swell of their belly against his aching need - “Ohhh _ ffuCK,  _ Charon,” Nabriales blurts, and his eyes open to see mirthful eyes, a fanged grin. They draw back and sink  _ deep _ , pushing against sensitive nerves and again grinding the bump of their lower belly firmly against his shaft, arching their back to let him see. It would still be  _ weeks _ , but - “A-aahhh,  _ fuck,  _ **_fuck_ ** ,” he repeats, composure lost in the moment.

Shuddering thrusts that push against nerves, and soon Iosis’ weight rests more, the pressure on their waist making their head spin. Their rhythm begins to fail and their thrusts become abrupt, each one grinding harder until they buck, fully hilted, within. A gentle touch on a single thread unravels Nabriales with them as their shaft twitches, emptying needful  _ heat _ within him as the Majestic paints the shapeshifter’s plush belly in tandem. The sounds Iosis makes are  _ bliss _ , trembling, holding themself tight to him as they ride out their pleasure with him.

When it fades, their full weight settles atop his, panting, twitches of their tail as each aftershock sends sparks through their body. One of his hands settles on a horn, gentle and soothing, and through his exhausted breaths he hums a gentle noise to them. “My good monster.” A gesture of his hand and bodies are rendered clean, gently coaxing Iosis to move, to withdraw and settle alongside him. Their body is pliant, perhaps too much as weak muscles stumble, slumping against him, his arm coming around to cradle and brace them to his side.

Heartbeats settle, panting subsides and the two embrace in slow and lazy touches, affectionate kisses as Nabriales wordlessly dotes on the exhausted tailor, soothing their trembles with the warmth of his body.

“One could have fooled me into thinking you had your way with many a lover like this before I,” he teases, one hand stroking, idly tracing scars. “Though our dear Hythlodaeus  _ did _ mention you had  _ begun _ to toy with yourself this way.”

Iosis murmurs incoherently, a grumble as they press their face into his throat, kissing there softly. “I learn from the best,” they eventually return with a chuckle.

“Finally you admit the truth: I  _ am _ the best, thank you, my darling monster.”

He yelps as the spade-tip of Iosis’ tail strikes true to his rear, grinning toothily and mussing silky locks into disarray in return. “Well, I  _ was _ going to make you breakfast, flesh tailor, but I am unsure if you deserve such an indulgence now.” He pauses to look at sad, hopeful eyes. Ah. He never could truly resist that face.

“Alright. You have twisted my arm, Charon. What is it you would like?”


	8. A Private Function

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iosis and the Majestic share a few quiet moments. Or just the one, to onlookers.

Fingers curled and clasped each other, two figures sat at a widely open door, watching gleaming diamond rain belt from the skies, creating a soothing din of white noise. Grinning, fangs showing, burnt umber eyes shining with mischief, Nabriales whispered a soft something to Iosis, before faintly gesturing at the outdoors. The rain slowed all around, refractions of rainbows caught in each crystalline drop before it struck the balcony, splitting off into smaller gems that glittered before joining the shallow sea that had settled upon the ground.

  
A mouth pulled into a sawtooth grin in response, fingers twitching as raindrops split and rearranged into ornate cut gems, lace patterns and dancing sprites as Iosis pulled the threads of aether to their will. Hue, composition, clarity, changes all ferried by the tailor’s will. Then, both let go, and the rain resumed its heavy drumbeat on the roof, the two leaning together with a content sigh.

“Dio,” Iosis started, gold aether touching faintly on the stitch within Nabriales’ soul, their hand squeezing tighter on his. “You’re my husband too, you know that, right?”

The rain’s din was the only sound, breath in the Majestic’s chest hitched and his gaze fixing on Iosis’ calm and content face. “Charon…”

“Don’t  _ Charon _ me like you’re surprised by it, Majestic,” they teased with a smile, cradling his jaw and ruffling his sideburns.

A beat, and Nabriales finally spoke. “My spouse is speaking very obvious things today. Have you been sleeping enough?”

Both sets of hands squeezed tight against each other, Iosis’ tail curling around and across Nabriales’ waist. Not much more needed to be said, really. Amaurotines were not creatures of grand shows and celebration when it came to marriage. Simply to declare, to agree on that status in public was enough. But he had never seen himself as the kind to engage in such a tradition. To be bound to another in such a way. 

Even in this, though, Iosis knew him all too well; they had taken a moment of utmost privacy, of quiet, comfortable closeness to tentatively broach it. To give him the opportunity to back out. Not declaring - asking. Not public - private.

“I love you, Charon.”

“I love you too, Dionysus.”

The door of the bedroom creaked open, and Hythlodaeus’ head peered in, smiling at the two, seeing their aether tangled so deeply in an intimate embrace far beyond the simple touch of their bodies and hands. “My dears,” he called softly, breaking the two from their reverie with a small jump. “I will be plating dinner presently. Head into the dining room when you are ready.”

Twinned nods, almost drowsy and dazed were his answer, the two aether-drunk off of each other, and Hythlodaeus smiled, closing the door behind him and leaving the two to come back to their senses.

“Can we have this? For a little longer?” Iosis murmured, nose tucked against Nabriales’ throat, inhaling warm woods, a faint spiced note in cologne.

Tyrian twined slowly with gold; tighter, tighter until colours ran together, swirls of purple within gold and sparks of aurum within regal hue. A soft kiss upon a tan brow, and the rain stopped dead, colour fading until the river of time ceased entirely except for they two. Empowered by the sheer overwhelming strength of primordial gilding, Nabriales’ control over the flow of time seemed almost effortless. So they could have this moment, for as long as they could wish.

Long, sharp talons softly brushed through short locks and settled at his jaw, smoothing the hair there down once more. Nabriales turned his head to place a kiss on a thumb, slowly drawing the talon into his mouth and teasing them with a soft curl of his tongue around its dangerously sharp curve and point, before relinquishing his hold, instead pressing his cheek into one of their cradling palms.

“How long is ‘a little longer’, monster mine? Like this, I could quite keep us frozen here for…” he trailed off with a slow and happy sigh, drawing them onto his lap, leaning his back into the open doorframe. Their forehead pressed to his and they took a slow breath, sharing it with him as they breathed in time.

“A little longer,” they repeated in answer, strings and drums a quiet performance for only them. The pull of Nabriales’ aether on their own to maintain such a secure hold on time’s flow was notable, but it did not bother them overmuch. A content sigh as slender fingers 

rubbed the tip of a horn, kissing them sweetly.

His fingers danced down across freckles of scales, down to the base of their tail where he squeezed slowly and gently, lip catching on a sharp tooth with his grin as he watched them melt and become boneless against him. “A little longer, then.”

Pointed ears lifted slightly, cherry meeting umber in a quiet, seeking look. Not as sensitive, but Iosis could still feel when a soul’s song was strained, concerned. “Does this change things, Charon?” Nabriales asked after some time. The polymorph on his lap grinned lopsidedly, stroking his cheek and kissing him softly.

“Nothing but the precise things you want it to.”

A rare show of trepidation, of vulnerability...and Nabriales held Iosis close, a playful lilt back in his voice. “Then I shall make all efforts to change absolutely every last little thing I can. For first instance, you may only refer to me as  _ Your Majesty _ , and only that!”

Iosis huffed and gently butted their forehead against his. “Well, in that case, you’re only allowed to call me  _ Dreadspawn _ , no more ‘flesh tailor’ this or ‘professor’ that!”

The two descended into fits of laughter and playful swatting, keratin and chitin scraping, leather and feathers brushing until they tumbled out onto the balcony, gems of rain soaking into clothes or broken further into glittering shards. The taller man pinned the short polymorph beneath him, blooms of bright iridescent feathers around his brow and cheekbones, grinning with sharp canines. “I decline your request, flesh tailor, under the fact that you had not informed me I could extend my ability to freeze a moment by drawing on your connection to the Star before now.”

Nabriales leaned in, kissing along their jaw and softly whispering in their ear. “Think of  _ all _ the ways we could have been using this. Fortunate for us both we are immortal, mm?”

Their face drew into a deep, intense and dusky blush, short-taloned fingers of the Majestic brushing their hair out of their face. And then, boldness returned, jagged teeth shown in a grin. “You don’t think it’s for that exact reason I never told you?”

“You know as well as I that you seek all the  _ indulgences _ that you can get your talons into.” A soft kiss upon one of their cheeks. “That I am hopeless to do anything other than help you indulge in.”

Beats pass in utter silence, vibrantly clothed figures in a world desaturated. “What  _ was _ it that Daeus was making for dinner, Iosis?”

Cherry eyes drifted open, Iosis making a slow, thoughtful sound. “Shakshouka, and some salad vegetables from the garden. Maybe some grilled courgette?” They tilted their head to gaze at the light frown on Nabriales’ face, and lips curled to reveal a sawtooth grin. “Are you, the Majestic, truly about to pout about  _ eggs _ for dinner?”

“Only that they are not my preferred kind,” he teased, drawing to his feet and lifting Iosis into a princess carry. 

Aether pushed raindrops away from them as he stepped back through the door, a tip of his head sliding it shut. Then, a long slow exhale...and colour returned, the drum of the rain beating back down on the balcony, but not unwinding from gold as he pat clothing down, dispelling the soaked in rain. “A good thing Hythlodaeus is such a skilled cook. It  _ does _ smell particularly delicious tonight.”

Nabriales adjusted his grip, stealing a brief kiss from Iosis before heading downstairs with them in his arms, to the sound of Hythlodaeus and Hades humming a content song together, food  _ just _ finished cooking and being served as if no more than a minute had passed since Hythlodaeus departed.

The only things that would change were exactly the things Nabriales wanted to be different.

Which in truth, was exactly nothing.


	9. How to Care for a Sick Polymorph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nabriales and Hythlodaeus take care of a sick, mute polymorph in need of some doting and pampering.

A sickly whine emanated from Iosis' throat as Nabriales carried them to the washroom, where he had drawn a steaming bath that had been mixed with luxurious oils, milk and shimmering drops of the Majestic's topical solutions. Their hair was scraggly, damp, their skin wet with the sheen of a fever that made them shiver. Muscles ached such that they could not stop squirming in an attempt to alleviate the soreness.

"Yes, I know you loathe being doted on when sick," he said, heaving a dramatic sigh, slowly lowering the polymorph into the bath, lifting their tail in after them. 

Muscles that ached and burned with soreness began to relax between the heat and Nabriales' concoctions, a strained outward breath that the Majestic recognised as a sigh of relief falling from their lips. They had not been able to speak for over two days and at first he joked that the silence was a pleasant change of pace but as he realised just how sick the shapeshifter was, he found himself rather missing their gentle tones. They sniffled pathetically as the steam helped clear their sinuses, barely able to move for muscle weakness. Confessedly, it was quite a distressing sight for Nabriales to look upon, as honoured as he had felt to be the person Iosis came to when they first started feeling ill.

"Now, little monster. Would you prefer floral, woods, spices, or fruits?" he asked, presenting glass bottles of various soaps to Iosis as he did. Their talons tapped softly at the second; woods. "Exquisite taste as always, my love. I know you are terribly fond of my wood."

Removing the cork, he poured some into his hands, slowly lathering and massaging the soap into Iosis' skin, making their eyelids flutter closed as he lathered, rinsed and worked both their arms, shoulders and chest before slowly and carefully working in their scalp. Nails drew slowly at the achy skin there, pads massaging in soap before gently cupping and pouring water down their hair, shielding their eyes.

“What a dreadful state for my poor monster.” His hands rinsed and fingers combed through silky pewter hair, a broad-toothed comb neatening it and letting him put it into a loose ponytail. Then, his hands resumed cleansing, scrubbing their back, their legs, a brush employed on avian-esque feet, lifting dust and grit from keratinous scales before lowering them back into the bath, letting oils and milk and tincture soak.

One hand moved in fluid shapes, Nabriales taking a moment to interpret the exhausted sign language:  _ What have you put in the bath? _

“Nothing of terrible consequence, dear. Just some mild pain relief, a few drops to bring you a dreg of bliss.” Soapy hands lifted their tail, massaging along its length as he lifted grime from its silky soft leather surface. A long sigh left their chest as he did, fingers roaming to eventually rub its base, a smile curling onto plush lips. “Ah, there is that smile I so love to gaze upon. One must presume he is doing a marvelous job to be treated to such a countenance.”

Their look turned withering, a flash of sharp teeth in their exhausted, smiling face, lifting a hand from the water to slick through the Majestic’s hair, smoothing it down, then repeating the motion several times across his head; water making the products he meticulously styled with re-shape to make his hair slick back from his brow. Fingers dropping to ruffle his sideburns, leaving a light coating of suds. A soft sound of intrigue, and fingers moved again:  _ It looks good all slicked back. _

Nabriales made a disgusted sound, but did not move to correct his hair even though he gently towelled suds from his sideburns, allowing Iosis this excess while sick. “You truly  _ are _ ill, little monster. Can you not see I clearly look more ravishing with it as a crest?”

A grin, eyes sliding shut in exhaustion. A lazy movement of their hand again:  _ Looks good any way. Most handsome husband. _

The Majestic smiled wryly, a little heat prickling his cheeks as Iosis signed ‘husband’. Something he was still getting used to regardless of the difference in what that word meant to Iosis compared to other citizens of Amaurot. To them, it was the highest declaration of love they could muster. But he  _ loved _ his little monster, and to be bonded, while he never gave a moment of consideration to it, had never seen himself to hold such a status...he could not help but gladly refer to Iosis as  _ spouse _ in return. The only one he would allow to call him by such a title.

“Full glad am I to be told the delicious truth. One can imagine Hades would fight viciously for the rights to such a position if he knew it existed.”

Their mouth opened with a grin, tilting their head back in a silent laugh as their voice could not break free from their body. They leaned on the shoulder of Nabriales as he leaned over the edge of the tub, slowly swishing water around the polymorph as they half-dozed in the warmth of the bath.

“I think,” Nabriales started, lifting his head from the side of the bath with a slightly invigorated expression, “you would enjoy some of my  _ finer _ bathtime indulgences.”

Opening an eye, fingers flicked and motioned fluidly, rapidly:  _ It’s sex toys, isn’t it. I’m  _ **_too ill_ ** _ to engage in  _ **_anything_ ** _ like- _

Their hand was gently clasped in two, their frowning brow kissed with soft, slim lips. “As shocking as this may be to you, shapeshifter, not all of my favourite indulgences are carnal in nature.” His kisses traveled to their hand, still held in position for  _ ‘that’. _

Setting their hand on the edge of the tub, he rose to the cabinet, opening it to a dizzying array of bottles, phials and soft cloths, all meticulously kept. Picking a few out, along with a soft, simple cloth, he sat on the stool at the edge of the bath again, unscrewing one and pouring a small amount of lightly coloured fluid onto his fingers that he then slowly massaged onto Iosis’ face. As he reached their temples, their eyelids drift shut with a soft content noise, rubbing there for a while before moving on. Then the cloth, wet under warm running water, was brought to their face, gently removing the fluid, rinsing, then cleansing again until the gilt flecks in their skin seemed all the more prominent.

“Ah, just as I suspected. Let us bring more of that sheen to the fore.”

Another bottle unscrewed, dropper filled with clear liquid, he gently dropped some onto his fingers and swept it across their face, watching as their nose wrinkled as it tingled their skin. He let it sit for a while before another bottle was opened, another solution, and then another after that, working in layers until finally, a dense and luxurious cream was slowly massaged into their skin. Some was applied onto their horns as well, making them take on a deeper and healthier sheen.

“There. Do you not agree that this was a  _ fine _ decadence?”

No flurry of fingers, just a slow blissful sigh and a few nods of agreement. 

After some time, letting Iosis soak up oils and tincture, he unplugged the tub, allowing the water to drain away, and lifted Iosis out with a towel, wrapping it around them as he did, holding them close to his body. They let out a soft huff, but it was not of annoyance but of comfort, holding onto him with arms, legs and tail all wrapped around him. 

Carrying them with ease despite their bulk, he poured them slowly onto their shared bed, using another towel to dry them more diligently, wrapping yet another around their hair to protect it. Then, a bottle of lotion that he poured onto his hands, and slowly worked into their body, making them trill and purr softly. He noted how they tensed as he reached their thighs, and massaged slowly, firm fingers and thumbs releasing knotted, inflamed muscles. Whimpers of pain turned to outward breaths of relief, and he applied more lotion, working up to their hips, caressing their waist; soft and fed well. Then, up to shoulders, breaking down kinks there, then down to arms.

“Can you turn over, Io~ooo~sis?”

A few trembles of their body, a push of arms, they could not even puppeteer their body into moving, an exhausted, panting sign:  _ Can’t move. I’m sorry. _

“Still you apologise so much; you never have need to with the Majestic.” He smiled, gently taking an arm and a leg and turning them onto their front, climbing onto the bed to straddle their back and apply lotion to their shoulder blades, working in  _ firmly _ , making them tremble but hushing them lightly as with persistent force, the muscle released, Iosis going boneless beneath him.

Working the rest of their body til they were in a blissful state of repose, he climbed off the bed with a playful, loving squeeze to their rear which earned him a gentle swat of leathery tail. Pleased to see even that much movement, he opened up his wardrobe, fingers shuffling through hangers until finding the item he was looking for: A robe like many others, but one with an open front that tied with a belt. Instead of the plain black of Amaurotine robes, it was decadent and plush, a warm fabric in deep purple, strewn with starry flecks. Nabriales gently laid it over Iosis’ back, drawing their arms into its sleeves before turning them over once again, drawing and tying it closed.

With timing the Majestic would have called uncannily good, he heard a knock at the front door, and with a soft kiss to a drowsing Iosis’ cheek, he pulled up his hood and donned his mask, a lazy jog to the door, opening it with a smile to see a white-masked figure, red hair spilling from his cowl. “Hythlodaeus! So good to see you; I take it this means you received the message I left? I can trust that you brought what I requested for my little monster?”

A sweet, an  _ achingly _ sweet laugh that reached Iosis’ ears was heard. “Do I detect just a hint of mistrust in your voice, Dion? Have I  _ ever _ been the kind of man to let you down?” Voices drew closer to the bedroom, the door opening to reveal the bright gazes of umber and teal eyed husbands, masks and hoods already doffed. Hythlodaeus carrying in one arm, Iosis’ favourite blanket, and in the other, a basket laden with fresh bread, and fruit from Hythlodaeus’ garden. “Oh, my sweet gargoyle. What a state you are.”

Iosis smiled wryly, lifting their hand:  _ Don’t condescend, nicest husband. I can still talk back. _ It drew laughter from Hythlodaeus and Nabriales, the two bookending Iosis on the bed.

“Be thankful I have already worked some of my magic on them. Should you think them a sorry state now then you cannot imagine what I was faced with when they woke this morning,” Nabriales quipped, draping the blanket across Iosis, who laid their hands onto its dense cotton weave, smiling as their fingers curled and felt at well worn, well loved, soft threads.

Hythlodaeus opened the basket, conjuring a knife to slowly slice into the bread, then into smaller bite-sized chunks that he placed into a bowl. A small bottle was procured from the basket, opened and poured into a smaller conjured dish; a deep greenish oil, aromatic, verdant and savoury. He dipped the bread into it and brought it to Iosis’ lips, who took it hungrily, readily. While preoccupied, Nabriales dipped a couple of pieces into the oil and devoured them, earning a soft tut from Hythlodaeus. “If you had asked nicely, I would have fed you as well, Dion.”

“I am not given to waiting, Daeus, you know this.” Another piece of bread stolen, and Hythlodaeus chuckled, keeping the dish out of reach to ensure his spouse would get at least some of the bread he had baked that morning.

A dramatic sigh from the administrator. “If you  _ must _ take my goods that I worked so hard on, there is a bunch of grapes in the basket that you may gorge yourself silly on. They are the sweet vineyard type you are so fond of.”

Nabriales paused uncharacteristically, before Hythlodaeus gestured at the basket. Hands dove in, pulling out a bunch of grapes, their glaucous coating almost pristine other than soft jostling from the basket. He relished in the first three; sweet and floral and delicately flavoured until he caught the saddened gaze of Iosis. He plucked a few more, feeding them carefully to the sawtoothed shapeshifter, who teased him with a soft, kissing suckle of his fingers. His expression softened, any glimpses of their more expected, impish behaviour reassuring him that they were not so ill that they could not find time to be playful.

“Do save a few for me, will you Dion?” Hythlodaeus piped up, using the back of a spoon to knock seeds out of a pomegranate into another bowl, meticulously preparing each fruit between feeding Iosis bread soaked in savoury oil.

A cheeky grin pulled onto Nabriales’ face, popping yet another grape in his mouth and leaning over Iosis’ lap, holding it between his teeth with a grin and a quirk of his brow. More than happy to humour the Majestic, Hythlodaeus leaned in, pressing his lips to the other man’s in a languid kiss, tongue teasing until finally the grape was passed to him, bursting it between his teeth and allowing the Majestic to enjoy some of its juices before separating. “ _ Thank you _ , I am glad to be reminded that Nabriales is not a selfish boor.”

“After how I take such good care of your spouse and all?”

“They are  _ your spouse too _ . Do not think a single one of us will let you forget that you, Dionysus, 38th of the title of Nabriales, are also wedded to my most beloved Charon.”

A blush stained Nabriales’ cheeks, huffing softly. A peculiar silence fell upon him as his brow creased in the mildest of frowns.

The back of Iosis’ hand tapped Hythlodaeus’ arm as they caught his attention to sign:  _ Don’t be mean! You know it’s different with me! You  _ **_know_ ** _ he doesn’t like being teased about it! _

“Ah. I suppose you are right. Please do not think my teasing meant harshly, or to trap you. I know you would not speak yourself in agreement for any other than Charon.”

“Daeus, all present know full well you have not an ill-intentioned bone in your body, unless it is mine,” Nabriales quipped softly, brushing off any lasting hurt from the tease. A soft chuckle, and the moment was permitted to pass, the Majestic quietly feeding Iosis sweet, sun-warmed grapes.

Letting Hythlodaeus take over the indoor picnic, Nabriales wandered over to a bedside cabinet, retrieving a manicure set and a few bottles of polish, and as Hythlodaeus fed him and their spouse both, he slowly worked on pushing back cuticles, trimming and filing the polymorph's talons with a practiced diligence. Their tips, forged of diamond, resisted shaping with his tools but were always malleable to Iosis' will; sharp or blunt, long or short, so he paid most mind higher onto the talon, before thoughtfully considering the bottles of lacquer. 

"Do you trust my judgement, little monster?" he asked, a sure nod in response, and a soft decline of bread, quite full. Hythlodaeus set aside the plates and bowls onto the bedside table, settling in to comb and braid his spouse's hair. 

A few more moments of consideration and Nabriales settled on a purple polish that was strewn with iridescent shards, making it almost crystalline as he applied it to their talons in layers. A touch of warm aether and a soft blow from his lips dried it quickly, and then he applied a dense balm around the nail, making them almost glow with a healthy sheen. He worked the balm up their digits, careful to avoid delicate nerves, up into their palm where thumbs massaged firmly, watching as cherry eyes slid shut with a smile and sigh of comfort.

"There is my good monster. Looking so handsome and pampered one would struggle to believe you were sick at all. At least, until you tried to speak."

The soft spade of Iosis' tail curled and cradled Nabriales' jaw, ruffling and smoothing sideburns, a simple smile on their face. Curling its length around his chest, they tugged him closer, resting back against Hythlodaeus and now the Majestic as well. Fingers smoothed feathery jaw hair, then combed through hair still slicked back and flat, lips breaking into a smile as they settled in close, cozy with their husbands.

"Trying some new hair, Dion? It  _ does _ look quite lovely like this." Hythlodaeus reached to touch, but was gently batted away.

“Auditor, please. I merely permitted this for the amusement of my dear monster. Rest assured there will be no changes made to my daily styling, so do not find yourself getting used to it,” Nabriales said, tucking Iosis close in against his side, stroking down one of their legs idly.

_ It does look good like that, though, _ Iosis signed, slurred slightly as in their comfort they began to doze.

“You are quite delirious, darling. Close those wondrous eyes of yours and rest a spell, won’t you?” Hythlodaeus urged, stroking the unbraided sides of their hair, weaving his fingers through it until their head slowly tipped back against the headboard of Nabriales’ bed.

A simple phial was pressed to their lips, opening their mouth to allow the Majestic to give them a small dose that quelled the aches of their muscles, a mild reverie settling onto them as its sedative effect took hold. “My good monster…” Nabriales whispered, stroking their jaw as their head eventually went slack as slumber dragged them under, rolling onto Hythlodaeus’ shoulder where he supported them gently.

Hythlodaeus’ hand gently laid over Nabriales’ on the polymorph’s lap, a soft squeeze and stroke of thumb. “You are good to them. Good  _ for _ them. I for one am deeply glad you are a part of their family. Hades is as well, though you may never find yourself hearing that from him directly.”

A fanged grin spread. “Daeus, it is, amongst many others, my mission in life to hear Hades confess how positive a presence I am in the life of my dear spouse. One way or another, I will draw the confession from his lips.”


	10. Housewarming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young Iosis has their first meal with their 'Uncle' Lahabrea and 'Aunt' Igeyorhm.

The house was largely bare when Lahabrea and Igeyorhm were welcomed in. Iosis had barely the time to start unpacking after an exhausting move, assisted by Deudalaphon and Fandaniel while Lahabrea and the 8th Emet-Selch prepared the house proper. Under the Speaker’s direction, it was already fitted for Iosis’ tastes, cozy and with plenty of space for storing concept matrices, with nooks that he had ensured were already furnished with pillow-like seats and heavy blankets for Iosis to huddle up in. A kitchen, spacious with plenty of counter space had been created.

Notably though, while the house was luxurious, plush and comfortable, it was notably one now owned by a person who did not get visitors. So, looking around the space with some hemming and hawing, Lahabrea made a gesture, clearing a space and conjuring comfortable chairs and couches for them all to sit on.

“How are you finding it all so far, little one? Are there any adjustments I could see to now, or perhaps request of Emet-Selch to be done if they are significant?” Lahabrea asked, smiling at the stacks of boxes of Iosis’ personal possessions, no hairband left behind from their father’s.

“The front room windows are...if they could be made so that they,” Iosis stammered, holding their hands up and sliding them to the side. “Like that. I like it when they’re like that.”

Lahabrea chuckled warmly, striding past, slipping his hood down and mask off, setting it down on a counter as he went to the front room. “Let me see to that for you. Igeyorhm, would you mind setting the oven?”

A mild furrow of her brow, Igeyorhm gave a half-smile and with a gesture of her head beckoned Iosis with her, entering the large kitchen. A large dish was tucked under her arm, and she carried a bag in the other. “I cannot fathom why he asks me, of all. Infernal contraptions.”   
  


“Oh! Let me!” Without asking for more information, Iosis vaulted over the counter, glancing at the dish as they went by and stooping in front of the oven. Still young, very much so for an Amaurotine, they had not even grown to their full height, and in their new house, one intended to suit them once they had grown, they seemed so very small. Still, their hands flew over dials and with a touch, the oven glowed to life, a gentle heat emanating from its windowed door. Resting their chin on the counter to look at the covered dish and bag, Iosis made a soft, pleading look at Igeyorhm.

“If you cannot wait a moment longer, then I suppose I should tell you; it is a thick stew topped with mashed potatoes and a bit of cheese. Quite simple, I know, but I think all the best housewarmings have simple, hearty meals.” Fondly ruffling Iosis’ short, scruffy hair, she produced a few small tins from the bag, opening them to reveal small pastry confections stuffed with syrupy, spiced nuts. “And baklava. For my favourite ward.”

“I’m your only ward, aunt Iggy,” Iosis chuckled.

“This does not preclude you from being my favourite, little one. If you are quick, you can snatch a couple before Lahabrea comes back in.” Sing-songing the last few words, it took no further encouragement for taloned fingers to dip into a tin, taking out a couple that resembled birds nests with how pistachios were arranged like eggs in a basket of hair-thin pastry. Devoured in a flash, Iosis smiled in delight.

A moment of silence, Igeyorhm’s expression hardened slightly. “He did not give you trouble on your way out, did he? Mitron, that is.”

Visibly tensing, the spade-tip of Iosis’ tail hit the tiles of the kitchen floor with a  **thwack** . “N...no. Fandaniel made sure I barely even saw him while Deudalaphon and I packed up. Then they teleported here while I-”

“Darling, did you fly here? Even for you, it is quite a distance.” Concerned, Igeyorhm offered another piece of baklava that was readily taken.

“You know I don’t like…” they gestured, not able to find the words before sighing and slumping on the counter. As the oven came up to temperature, they reached for the large dish, uncovering it and sliding it into the middle. “Feels weird. Like everything’s pulling and ripping and…”

“Like you are having your threads pulled, little one?” Lahabrea chuckled softly, dusting his hands off. “I have made the adjustment to the window. It should slide open at a mere whim now.”

Nodding a silent affirmative, Iosis padded around the counter to embrace Lahabrea, giving a yelp as he lifted them into a single-armed carry, bringing them back to the living room, Igeyorhm in tow.

“Careful, old man. You are not as young as you seem to think, carrying your nibling around like that,” Igeyorhm teased with a soft laugh, bringing a tin of baklava with her and setting it on the small table.

“Oh, my beloved, you wound me so deeply. Your very words ice against the sputtering embers of my heart,” Lahabrea responded, dramatically collapsing onto the sofa with Iosis still in his arms, making the young Amaurotine laugh, settling in to huddle up against him, a cuddle gladly returned. “Ah, there is the spirited little polymorph I know.”

“Tell me, Iosis, what happened to that nice boy you liked to sneak out to meet every year? Hades?” Igeyorhm asked softly, taking a piece of the confectionary for herself.

Cherry eyes slid down, a soft sound in Iosis’ throat. “I couldn’t get out for a couple of years. Figured that by that point he’d probably forgot about me and I...didn’t feel like it would be right turning up on his balcony.”

Lahabrea bit his lip slightly, remembering how not just a month ago the young Hades, under Emet-Selch’s tutelage, had sprinted after the other, leaving a wake of gold beads as they tumbled from his hair. “I am uncertain of that, little one. You tend to make quite the impression.”

Silent and not really knowing how to respond, Iosis cleared their throat and changed the subject. “I forgot to mention; thank you for the music box. On top of everything else you and Emet-Selch did to furnish this, it...I love it. It even plays my favourite song from the performance dad took me to!”

Igeyorhm and Lahabrea exchanged glances. A gift neither of them had left but from description alone there was only  _ one _ who would have known such a thing, known of this, known of Iosis...And yet, as he ever had, he wished to remain naught but a faint shade in Iosis’ life. Helping from afar, loving without being known. Lahabrea’s gaze dipped, catching the faintest of silvery white, just barely beginning to form on Iosis’ throat. “You are more than welcome, little creature. I know how much you adore that piece and...it is but a small token. Something to shore you up when you feel a little worn thin.”

“I used to hum it to myself, when I couldn’t sleep. It replicates it almost perfectly, like Elidibus is actually playing!” Their eyes wrinkled in a smile, jagged teeth in a wide and joyful grin. Lahabrea gently ruffling their short hair, a gentle rub to the tip of a horn, lightly tense. He would have to speak with the Emissary later.

Conversation drifted to Iosis’ hobby research, their first matrices; the polymorph dragging out heaps of notebooks, battered and overfull with extra paper slipped into their pages, glued in. Foldouts that would take up almost the whole floor - the first of their ‘frames’ to allow aether to be worn as a temporary modification. Inefficiently written, but Lahabrea fascinatedly looked over the Concepts Iosis had tested with this method.

“Igeyorhm, my love, do you have any spare concept prisms on you? I think my dear little creature has got onto quite a fascinating branch of Phantomology.”

Thinking for a moment, fingers flexing until finally pulling a blank concept matrix from her personal aetheric inventory, Igeyorhm stepped over to the sprawling matrix blueprint that Iosis had written. It appeared almost as if a tailoring pattern, mixed with arcane geometries that she recognised as being something more ancient than Amaurot itself.

Lahabrea chatted excitedly with Iosis, and between the three of their talents and knowledge, slowly etched the matrix with Iosis’ blueprint, tidying its script and pattern, Iosis taking the time to inscribe the peculiar primordial geometries within it.

Igeyorhm’s gaze met Lahabrea’s, a light furrow of her brow and tilt of her head. A question unvoiced but one to be discussed later at home. He gave a soft nod in return, squeezing her hand. Iosis attempted to explain what the script was, but as poor as they were in words, they could not find the language to explain what it was, what they saw, what they were writing.

“I believe I have seen this script before. In one of the books authored about the world of Elders, before Amaurot was even a few buildings upon the River Anyder,” Igeyorhm mused, watching as Iosis’ talons delicately etched into the prism. 

Before long, it was capped at either end with bright brassy metal, letting it glow. Its mixed scripts fizzed with gold, aqua and gleaming embers as it settled; for a moment it appeared as if it were too unstable, until a gentle touch from Iosis brought it into harmony, finally settling into a mixed blue-orange glow.

Lahabrea examined the matrix slowly, before drawing from its designs, a pair of black wings, ornamented with dimly lit red pinion feathers coming to rest upon his back which he moved experimentally. “Remarkable...utterly remarkable.”

“Been working on it for a few years - I figured maybe others would like to see the world like I do and…” They trailed off, their ears dipping, tail tucking against their leg.

“Iosis, would you want somewhere you could research this branch of Creation magic more? With all the resources you could ever hope for?” Lahabrea asked, trying to hold in his own enthusiasm and want to see his practically-adopted child say yes.

“The house is fine! It has so much space for me to be able to write out blueprints and-”

“He is asking if you wish for an office at Akaedemia, little one,” Igeyorhm said with a soft titter, putting a hand on Iosis’ shoulder reassuringly. “To have access to all that knowledge and to even assist us with our own research. What you have here is...Something I have only seen once before. Something Lahabrea is  _ very _ excited to see again - just look at his face!”

Pale gold eyes, a hopeful smile met Iosis’ own cherry red gaze, eyes slit as they realised what was truly being offered. “But the...the Halls of Rhetoric would surely be crammed, were I to take up such an offer. Everything I know is all self-taught and to be so young with no formal-”

“You will not be in a public-facing position. Just a small office, tucked away in Phantomology. Access to the libraries, all the blank matrices you could wish for. What you have here, Iosis, is something truly fascinating, and it deserves to be researched further, despite it flying in the face of our laws.” Lahabrea drew Iosis onto his lap again, hugging them close, even soft feathers shrouding them. “Such as you are...I could not bear to see your skills go without nurturing. I will discuss it with the rest of the Convocation, but I do not think such a notion would meet majority opposition.”

Taloned fingers slowly touched on the iridescent black feathers, mutually designed and scripted, worn through their ability to write the capability to don aether as one might clothing. “My own office…”

“I promise you, you will be free to research to your heart’s content. Complete freedom - I will ensure it is kept, I will approve every Concept for use in Akaedemia myself if I must.” Lahabrea’s hand cradled Iosis’ jaw, kissing their forehead. “You will be safe. What say you, little weaver?”

Iosis’ fingers played with the spade tip of their tail, rubbing over it, folding its edges as they thought, brow furrowed. “I...think I’d like that very much.”

Smiling, Lahabrea hugged them close. Igeyorhm’s face drew into an easy smile, a gentle nod to her husband as he breathed a sigh of relief.

“You make an  _ old man _ proud every day, Iosis.”

The timer on the oven rang, the first time of many that it would sound. But no other time would it ring for so very many things beyond a meal’s readiness.


	11. Dinner Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nabriales takes Hades and Iosis out for a lavish dinner in the outskirts of Amaurot.

“If you are going to squirm, then it will look bad, and I do not want my delicious monster to look anything short of  _ perfect _ ,” Nabriales huffed, holding a soft brush bearing lightly coloured powder on its bristles, just short of Iosis’ face, waiting for the polymorph to stop flinching every time he brought it to their lid.

“Okay, okay. I’ll try and hold perfectly still,” they answered, closing their eyes and taking measured breaths.

Once again the brush was brought to the crease of their lid, washing over it with a gentle and practiced hand, leaving a deeper hue. Then, another colour, and another until their lids bore a bright gold not unlike their soul. Satisfied with the work, Nabriales took a slender brush and dipped it in a thick, pitch-black ink, cradling Iosis’ face with his free hand as he swept it along their lash line, ending with a small flick.

“Keep your eyes closed, monster mine. I am not yet finished.”

Another tube, a conical brush that he used to coat the polymorph’s lashes with a deep black, just enough to bring attention from their usual pale grey. He scrutinized his own work for a while, using a clean brush to sweep away any stray dust on their cheeks. “Open your eyes. Let us have a look at you.”

Cherry eyes opened, striking and brightened by the hues around them, brought attention to even more than their usual vividness. Nabriales beamed in delight, kissing Iosis’ forehead. “Well, a treat for the eyes, I think. But! I am not yet done. Let us draw forth your  _ majesty _ , yes?”

Iosis nodded slowly, frowning mildly as Nabriales kept the mirror out of reach. Long fingers grasped softly at their jaw, holding their head still as a small brush swept over their lips, laying a deep slate onto their plush curves. Soon, a powder was brushed over their skin, then another underneath their cheekbones, deeper in colour. Finally, a sweep of iridescent gold atop their cheekbones, accenting them and making them gleam. The polymorph wrinkled their nose, resisting the urge to sneeze from the various coloured powders coating their skin.

“I refuse to believe you have never had the touch of makeup in your life, darling monster. You look  _ ravishing. _ ”

Finally holding the mirror up to Iosis’ face, they looked surprised, a soft inky blush staining their cheeks as the makeup he had applied brought out their best features, accenting their lips with the same slate hue as their true skin, and making their cheekbones stand out. “Dio, this is...I look…” they could not find the words, turning their head this way and that to see the gleam of hues on their eyelids and cheeks.

“It  _ is _ rather a good job I have done, I must agree. And what a grand canvas to work with on top of it all,” Nabriales replied, sitting and cradling Iosis’ chin, smiling as he leaned in to place a soft kiss on their lips. “I would be glad to do this for you again, any time you wish.”

Appraising them once again, his brows raised. “Ah! I almost forgot,” and with a flick of his wrist, a pair of earrings, much like his own but milky and stained by starlight, appeared in his fingers, having been set aside when Iosis had gone to shower. Carefully he threaded them through the shapeshifter’s ears, letting them hang comfortably. “There. Now we are a properly matching pair again,” he teased, making the stygian blush on Iosis’ cheeks flare once more.

“This really does look, _I_ _look_...Wonderful. Thank you, Dionysus,” Iosis stammered, still struggling to express their feelings. But over all, they were _thankful,_ and they leaned in against Nabriales contently. “Though don’t you think I’m a bit overdressed for a dinner date?”

Nabriales laughed, drawing Iosis in against him. “Little monster, when you are on a date with the Majestic,  _ overdressed _ is not a word in our lexicon. Speaking of, I think I could work a tad more magic on you.”

Brow furrowing, Iosis’ spade-tipped tail flickered and twitched anxiously. Dressed in purely functional clothing, Nabriales stepped back to look them up and down, before making a flick of his wrist. Cotton vest and utilitarian shorts were changed for flowing chiffon, pale, just off-white and accented with a corset of glossy silk, ornamented with gold and in hues of teal-to-purple. Flicks and gestures replaced clothes, drawing Iosis onto their feet to let hands roam, making adjustments, tightening lace, playful gropes that made the shapeshifter chirp in theatrical dismay before breaking into soft giggles.

Excited as he dressed Iosis, Nabriales took an almost  _ skipping _ set of steps over to his dresser, opening draws and rummaging through them. “Ah, maybe these. Definitely that. Hmmh, let us see how it look-oh! Well, that  _ cannot _ just sit there. One of us must wear it,” he nattered to himself, Iosis watching curiously, patiently.

Jangling in his hands, he spread out a selection of jewelry on the bed Iosis perched on. Simple bangles were eased onto the smooth leather of their tail, a touch gently tightening them so they would not fall off, a few of them lifted higher and made so they would not move easily. A gleaming, embering feather encased in glass, attached to a delicate chain was moved to be clasped around Iosis’ neck before Nabriales paused, drawing it back and instead fastening it around his own. Another similarly encased feather, unmistakably iridescent, a section of a  _ peacock’s  _ tail, was instead clasped around Iosis’ neck, gently adjusting the two with a pleased quirk of his lips.

Fingers touched on the encased, iridescent feather. “ _ Cauda pavonis. _ One of mine own. As for this…” a finger lifted the flickering orange feather. “I assume you are all too familiar with the name of the fourth stage of the alchemical process.”

Iosis took a moment, looking at the feather, constantly in state of embers curling through its delicate filaments. “Melanosis, leucosis..xan...xanth...xanthosis?” Not their forte, they looked to Nabriales, who confirmed with a nod, lips parting as he couldn’t hold the grin on his face back, excited to hear the last word click into place. Fingers curled and lifted their chin as Iosis’ face flushed with a shyness he had more often seen in his early days of being acquainted to the polymorph.

“Lahabrea gave me the name  _ Iosis _ . I think I...see why, now.”

Leaning down, thin lips touched the top of Iosis’ head in a kiss, eyes closed for a moment as tyrian and gold clasped. “It is rather fitting. I may even be pressed to say that it reaches perfection.”

He drew back, softened expression returning to well-worn persona, smirking. “Moreover, I am glad that you got more than bad work habits from the old man.” He fussed with bracelets and rings, finding a large cuff that accented Iosis’ deep tan skin for one wrist, and on the other, a delicate chain with teardrops of star rubies. Small stacking rings with set opals that gleamed in yellows and reds, and one signet ring, its face blank, slipped onto fingers. Iosis blinked a few times at the signet ring, taking a breath to speak.

“Much as it pains me I cannot allow myself to have  _ all  _ the fun in leaving marks on you. Show it to Hades when he arrives.” His fingers fondly graced over Iosis’ earrings, nails tapping to make them ring with their otherworldly tone. His expression gentled, a moment of stillness. He had not expected Iosis to adore them such that they were only removed for sleep and showers, but from the day he had left them in their office, they were never seen without. Even in passing moments in Akaedemia and the Bureaus, he would catch their almost self-lit sheen peeking out from their hood.

The loose chiffon of Iosis’ garments were adjusted to gather, to be laced around ankles, to flow freely around wrists, the polymorph allowing the Majestic to work to his heart’s content, even ensuring that the back remained a halter-tie so that if they wished, wings would not be obstructed. Thumbs slid across where they would emerge from, an idle massaging rub that made them sigh contently.

“There. I think...yes, I think  _ now _ you could be defined as looking  _ majestic,” _ he teased, lilting on his epithet and making Iosis giggle softly. He drew them to their feet and lead them to the mirror in his wardrobe, looking pleased with himself as Iosis turned and examined the clothing and ornamentation, eyes widening with a sense of wonderment as they did, even allowing small, impish wings to unfurl from their back to check, yes, that they  _ could _ still fly like this, if they wished.

“A...a little tighter, on the corset,” they asked with a shy stammer. The Majestic’s brow furrowed lightly, hand hovering above their waist in an unasked question. “It’s okay. You’re good to.”

Happy to oblige with the reassurance that he would not be putting his next gilded meal at risk, a glide of Nabriales’ finger down across the laces strung the garment tighter, a flutter of eyelashes with Iosis’ smile, the faintest sound of pleasure in their throat. Iosis watched as the reflection of Nabriales tucked his head against the polymorph’s neck, arms pulling the short figure tighter against him as he gave a teasing graze of teeth in his kiss, freckles of small iridescent feathers shimmering in the wardrobe’s lights. His hands roamed across their form, smoothing silk and adjusting steel bones stitched tight, reshaping gilded ornamenting to allow for ease of movement despite the gentle pressure around their waist and lower ribs.

“Tighter, my monster?”

Softly shaking their head, they leaned in against Nabriales, admiring how they both looked in the mirror. “I see that gaze, Io, and you can save it for when I am done dressing as well,” he teased, scooping them up against him in a princess carry with only minimal fight from Iosis who settled into warm chuckling. Setting them onto a plush chaise longue, the Majestic set to preparing his own makeup and ornamentation before the doorbell rang.

“Is he early, or are we running late, Dio?" Iosis asked with an agitated flick of their tail. Rising from his seat at the vanity, Nabriales gave a light stroke to Iosis' shoulder as he passed by on his way to the door.

"It is still deeply endearing that you ask a man who can twist time to his will if it is possible for us to run late. For once in his life Hades is on time - he truly must be excited." His voice faded off as he wandered into the hallway, a shout as the doorbell rang again. " _ I am not  _ **_deaf_ ** _ , Hades!"  _

Taking a few steps over to the vanity mirror, Iosis took a few moments alone to appraise their appearance, taloned fingers combing through their hair. Mostly let down, loose plaits, beads and ties decorated it. Gentle waves rippled through from how often they had it tied up in a braid. They had allowed Nabriales to dress them on a more casual basis in the past but that was under their own insistence that he keep it utilitarian. This was the first time they had allowed him to have free reign over their appearance, and the job he had done…

They would never confess but they loved it. They loved how  _ they looked _ in it. Flattered deeply by how  _ this _ was how he dressed them, when allowed to act freely on his desires...within the parameters of which he dressed them. They knew full well he would see fit to have them dressed  _ far _ differently were this not a dinner date.

Cheeks flushed plum, and an embering glow of a crimson glyph flickered across their visage for a moment, before quickly dismissing it and their wandering thoughts to take a second look at themself. With a slow breath, they loosened some of the hold they kept on their body, golden outcroppings of keratinous scales blooming on their skin, a pattern evocative of wings on their back. With a long pause, they allowed their horns to grow and knit together at their tips, keratin hardening, fusing, pressure opalising them to bounce light in every colour known in gleaming shards within their joined points.

Leathery wings unfurled from their back, and they looked at them for a good long while. A sigh, a flex, and bones fused and skin grew over with drab earthy-hued feathers. A sparrow’s wings. “Cheimon said the phoenix was emblematic of  _ iosis…” _ they murmured, and with a slow relaxation of their hold on themself, feathers became lit with the same fire as the down in Nabriales’ pendant. Long pinions that glowed with a golden inner fire. Soft inner-wings that almost seemed to glitter with embers. Pennant-feathers with shining gold tips. Larger and grander than a simple sparrow in every way. In that moment the ache of holding themself in subsided somewhat. “Is this why Poseidon made…”

The limbs burst in a haze of gold aether, shimmering away as their body reabsorbed it. They had seen that creature before. Lahabrea had been so very proud of it, spending hours studying Iosis’ body, inscribing details right down to how many pennant-feathers their wings bore, the exact sunny flame their plumage donned...before a wayward soul had become trapped. It was quite the task to deal with on Hades’ first day as Emet-Selch, even though it felt so long ago that he had taken on that mantle. They wondered if Hades recognised the firebird’s appearance. Nabriales certainly would have had no idea.

Lost in their thoughts of small adjustments, they did not hear the boyishly argumentative voices of Emet-Selch and Nabriales approach the door to the bedroom. When it opened, Iosis appeared as a deer caught in the headlights, staring wide-eyed at Emet-Selch who appeared just as stunned as they.

“Iosis…” His cheeks flushed red at the sight of them, and cherry red aether  _ tangled _ into gold as tall legs carried him across the room in an instant to press his lips to theirs, stooping down. “You look  _ magnificent _ , my dear.” His fingers gently cupped their jaw, tilting to see the sheen of gold, the way eyes were shaded to make cherry appear lit from within, like cut gems. “And your outfit…”

“I  _ have _ done some fine work, have I not?” Lips curled into a self-satisfied grin, Nabriales looked entirely like the cat who had got the cream, examining his nails nonchalantly. Emet-Selch looked between Iosis and Nabriales.

“This is all Dio’s work. You really think I’d dress like this on my own initiative?”   
  
“I have  _ seen _ the outfits you hide under your robes, little monster. As has Hades.”

Plum hue reached their ears and their tail twitched with a jingle of bangles. Gently ushering Iosis back to the chaise longue, fingertips lingering approvingly on how they allowed more of  _ them _ to push to the fore, Nabriales soon went to shoo Emet-Selch along with them until the Majestic found himself caught in a soft kiss. The temptation to tease with venom rose, but he held back; he recognised the tender, vulnerable gesture for what it was and brushed his thumb across Emet-Selch’s cheek.

“Thank you. To see them like this is...a treat.”

“My my, if I am to be rewarded so deliciously by  _ his eminence _ , perhaps I will persuade my spouse to let me dress them more often. Now, go admire my handiwork some more while I get ready.” A gentle ushering with a playful pat on Emet-Selch’s rear, one that rewarded Nabriales with a huff of indignance, and the Architect sat on the chaise with Iosis, drawing them to lay back across his lap.

Emet-Selch’s outfit, elegant and impeccably tailored showed off in its simplicity. Tight burgundy dress shirt ornamented with collar pins of crocuses, and a long black coat with another pin of an iris flower in its lapel. Black, hot-pressed dress trousers, and black and white wingtip shoes. In comparison to the two preening polymorphs, he seemed quite plain.

Iosis fussed with the ruffles of Emet-Selch’s shirt, smiling as they took in how much time he had spent on himself before arriving to Nabriales’ apartment to pick the two of them up. In turn, he looked over the ornaments and embellishments, fingers resting on the blank signet ring.

“Ah. Dio said to show it to you.”

Emet-Selch’s brow quirked, a mild grin on his face. “Well now. Who’s the one being overly generous now, Dionysus?”

Voice strained as he worked powder and ink carefully onto his face as not to disrupt this work, his response was  _ almost _ off-guard. “A token of my appreciation. And, because I have already left  _ plenty _ of my own mark upon them. Tis only  _ fair _ .”

Taking mercy, Emet-Selch lifted Iosis’ hand with the ring, kissing its blank surface, leaving his own sigil there in its place, before playfully kissing up their arm to make them laugh.

  
“Given the lengths you have gone to dress Iosis, I am to presume this restaurant of yours has an  _ incredibly _ lax dress code?” Emet-Selch teased, watching as clothes were exchanged; leather pants with ornate stitching in curls, laced and tightened to fit the form of his legs, flexing to ensure enough give -they were, after all, going to  _ walk _ to the restaurant- before slipping a cream shirt over his chest. Loose around the sleeves, which ended in delicate lace at their cuffs, the plainness was soon broken by a lavish waistcoat, deep mahogany leather almost  _ ostentatious _ in how decorated it was with brassy applique, intricate patterns across the front face of it in gentle crossing curves and near  _ fleur-de-lis _ like petals, contoured to his body. The top part ended in a high collar, drawing part of the undershirt over it with a flash of white lace, the back of it the same brassy leather as the brocading.

Fussed over by the Majestic, he tightened and adjusted laces and buckles, making sure the phoenix plume rest atop the collar of white. Before long, his fingers, avian talons and digits now, swept over his cheeks, leaving a trail of gleaming, iridescent feathers that offset simple eyeshadow and mascara, and harmonised with a pleasing deep but sheer wine hue on his lips that caught the light with just the faintest shimmer of bright green.

“It  _ does _ have lax rules, yes - I have seen some of Iosis’ students there with modifications I  _ know _ are not to be used outside of Akaedemia. But no mind is paid. They are not reported either, Daeus informs me, so you can stop making that sound you think nobody can hear but I can  _ quite _ acutely, little monster.” A few touches, adjusting the hue of his garments  _ just so _ to accent his jewelry better and his own plumage, he looked quite satisfied. “Oh dear, Hades. You do look quite drab in comparison.”

The white-haired magus looked up at Nabriales, a toothsome grin forming on his face. “Don’t be so foolish, Majestic. With Iosis and yourself on either arm, I will be the best  _ dressed _ of the three of us by far.”

“Finally, some recognition from the  _ most eminent. _ Tell me, you have not been pre-drinking have you, my dear? Not that it matters;  _ in vino veritas _ , as they say. Or at least, as I say.”

“If you are going to gloat then I shan’t pay you compliments in the fut-”

“Boys, you’re  _ both pretty _ .” Iosis’ voice was plain, exasperated, but teeth flashed in a lazy smile, tucking some of their ornamented hair behind their ear.

“...Anyway, any further concerns about our appearances need not be had. I flexed some of my Convocation credentials and had the entire establishment reserved for just the three of us. A pity Hythlodaeus and Elidibus are unable to attend as well - you have quite the job ahead of you, dealing with the both of us,” Nabriales teased, a slow blink of reassurance to Iosis, answering their unvoiced question.

As Nabriales finished fussing over his appearance, Iosis deftly plaited Emet-Selch’s hair, threading a multitude of gold beads onto it - more he would inevitably lose, scattered onto the floor of the Convocation offices for unwary passers by to step on. More Elidibus would doubtlessly end up picking up and stashing at his home for either Emet-Selch or Iosis to pick up later.

“Ready to go, Dionys?” Emet-Selch drawled, standing from the chaise and gently drawing Iosis to their feet. Fingers snapped, communal robes shrouding their ornate garments, masks lifted from tables and donned for the three of them. A firm nod and the Majestic ushered the two from his room, a wave of fingers turning out lights on the way out.

The ticking of Iosis’ clawed feet echoed in the halls of Nabriales’ apartment building, the three quietly descending until Iosis’ head tipped up in attention. “It’s raining.” Ordinarily not an issue for Amaurotines that more often than not would simply use rifts and teleportation, but both Emet-Selch and Nabriales knew how greatly the polymorph disliked travelling that way. “No worries. I can deal with it,” they added after a moment.

Large doors opened, a dense heavy rain greeting the three of them. Iosis was the first to step out with a squawk of alarm from Nabriales, fearing the last few hours of his work to be washed away. Yet, not a single drop hit them, rain simply not seeming to strike where they would stand. Offering their hands out to both Nabriales and Emet-Selch, taken, the two found that just as it did not strike Iosis, it did not strike them either. With Sight enough, the Architect spotted the faintest shimmers of gold thread reaching into the clouds above. A soft sound of amusement escaped Emet-Selch’s throat as the three of them strode to their destination.

Unassuming, but with one-way windows that obscured guests, the doors to the restaurant were manned by two Amaurotines, perking up in recognition of the three guests’ iconic masks, a hurried opening of the doors to usher them out of the rain. “Welcome, welcome! Right on time, please, please come through. Robes and masks can be hung up on the right.”

Aether lamps floated and flickered all around, faint hues of yellow, lilac and pink in their hues, a table in the centre laid ornamented with scattered crocuses. After robes were carefully removed, masks cradled in their hoods and hung, Iosis took a moment to take in the decor, before shooting a look at Nabriales, their tail slapping the floor with a jangle. “You didn’t say you’d-”

“No half-measures, little monster. When one goes as far as reserve an entire venue, it would be folly to not pull out  _ all _ the stops.” His smile drew into a fanged grin, iridescent plumage catching the light of the restaurant, phoenix down gently glowing upon his chest.

Lead to the table by a waiter, Emet-Selch’s fingers alighted on small, delicate blue flowers trailing across the tablecloth with the crocuses, dyed an all-too-familiar tyrian purple. “Ah. This might be some of your most sly flirting yet, Nabriales.”

“It cannot be so sly if the  _ most eminent _ caught it so quickly.”

A faint titter of a laugh came from the masked, robed waiter as they laid a set menu before Emet-Selch and Iosis to look over. With their attentions distracted, Nabriales’ face drew fretful, thumbs rubbing over each other, hoping what he had chosen would be met with-

“ _ Fuck, _ ” Iosis blurted, clapping their hand over their mouth a split second later, much to the amusement of the waiter, and the relief of the Majestic.

A quirk of his lip and Emet-Selch set the menu down, finished appraising it. “I do believe the monster has summarised it best. No half measures indeed,  _ Majestic. _ ”

"Will any adjustments need to be made to the meal plan, esteemed guests?" 

"None!" Emet-Selch and Iosis chimed together, but keeping the slips on the table to be considered and anticipated all the more. With no more than a soft chuckle from the waiter, icy cold water was poured into glasses, bottles of rich plum-coloured and bright golden wine produced and poured. Red grapes, white grapes, honey. Thick slices of toothsome, seeded, lightly toasted soft bread smothered in aromatic and herbaceous butter, gently wilted leaves with a peppery note to top.

"I don't understand, Dio. How could you…how can you possibly know all of these things? Even little details like, like- there's tarragon in this butter, Dio! Nowhere, nobody else…" Iosis flustered, sipping their wine, Nabriales’ manicured hand laid onto theirs, iridescent blue-green lacquer with prism-like flecks gleaming in the light ornamenting his talons.

"Hades, my dear, have I ever failed to take care of our monster's needs down to the last detail?" Beaming, proud as Emet-Selch gave a shrug that conceded that yes, Nabriales always  _ did _ take care of Iosis. Even in days long before he had become a cemented figure in Iosis' life, Hades had spotted small ways he would take care. Announcing his approach to the office before knocking, elixirs produced with rapidity whenever an accident befell them. Boxes of confections from various makers and posies of found wildflowers left on their desk; gestures of courtship to a comically oblivious professor.

"I always remember the things that excite you most, Iosis. Even the ones outside of the bedroom." His smile broke into a grin, a hint of black chitin at the corner of his mouth as Iosis blushed hard enough that he swore there was just the faintest flicker of their sigil across their face.

The moment was broken by the arrival of starters, phyllo pastry cradling melted, creamy and tart cheese, apricots stewed and diced on top, a light sprinkling of crisp shallots mantling it all. Small petals and decorative scrapes of compote were appreciated, Nabriales noting how both sets of eyes widened. A nod of thanks to the waiter, and soon the three tucked in.

Iosis was the first to break, a sound of absolute  _ delight _ wresting from their throat as they swallowed the first bite; tartness, creaminess, sweetness, salt and  _ umami _ all blending together. “Oh,  _ wow, _ this is...how have we never been here before? I’d happily wear communal robes  _ and _ mask  **_and_ ** no alterations for this,” Iosis said, drawing a chuckle from Emet-Selch as they dove in to assemble another bite.

“In the one place where it is hardly needed, little monster?” Emet-Selch asked, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

“Well, I wouldn’t wanna be  _ recognised. _ It would make my students feel unsafe. And this is akin to...a sanctuary for them, I guess. Somewhere they can wear horns and claws and hooves and not worry. …And get some amazing food as well.”

A pause between two husbands, Iosis lifting their head mid-bite to look between them. “Did you both forget how much I adore those kids? I’m happy they have this, but I know I have to recite the rules when I teach so I can’t…” they trailed off, frowning as the words needed slipped from their mind.

“You can’t be seen allowing it out of professionalism. Just as they never see you as we do at home,” Emet-Selch finished, gently drawing Iosis’ face to him and kissing their forehead. “Seems we do forget.”

Iosis gestured dismissively with a grin, tailtip flicking. “No need for all that graveness tonight. I’m just happy to be here.” A soft giggle, returning to starters, soon finished and washed down with water and wines, glasses passed around to taste.

“Io, this is  _ incredibly _ sweet. Is this not…does this not bother you?” Nabriales asked upon sipping the mead, handing it back to the smiling shapeshifter, who drained the glass, Emet-Selch refilling it for them once more.

“No? You know I’d subsist on confectionaries, fish and grapes if I could.” A beat, lips parting to grin. “And eggs, before you say.”

Plates were taken, small talk resulting in trills, chuckles and laughter between the three before main courses were brought out. Rose pink, fatty fish, with skin crisp and a light, sweet smokiness to it, sat on a bed of lightly sauteed samphire. A small, neatly shaped serving of rice; sour cherries, red as rubies scattered across the crisp surface of it, caramelised and the grains themselves dyed bright gold by deep scarlet strands of saffron.

Iosis could not help but flick their tongue out across their lips, but not before peering at the differing mains of their husbands.

For Emet-Selch, chicken, shredded and cooked in a mix of walnuts and aromatic spices, drizzled with a syrup that smelled, notably, of the fruit of one of Iosis’ own publicly distributed concepts - the pomegranate. Notes of nutmeg, clove, coriander and paprika hit their nose, a trill of delight. Roasted beets with honey butter melting on top and couscous scattered with the same bright garnet seeds as the syrup was made of. A blush crept across Emet-Selch’s face, staring down the calmly smug expression of Nabriales.

The Majestic’s meal was superficially simple. Finely chopped raw, red meat, seasoned lightly with herbs, a single deep yellow-orange egg yolk nestled on top, but served with crisp, thin slices of potatoes and aubergine, small pickles, velvet-skinned figs dusted with cinnamon. Wholegrain mustard and creamy, peppery horseradish, a whole array of accompanying flavours and textures to entertain Nabriales’ taste buds as he began to delicately compose his first bite.

Smokiness and unctuous richness brought Iosis’ attention back to their own plate. Deft utensils gently separated the skin from the meat of the fish, carefully folded with a crisp crackling, and slipped into their mouth. A sigh of delight from a simple pleasure before more complex flavours occupied their palate. They savoured it, the way it was perfectly crisp, the intense saltiness, accented with a light, sweet smoke. A smile spread across their lips, taking a long drink of water before tucking in for another bite.

Fresh samphire cut through the richness of the fatty, juicy salmon just as much as the sharpness of sour cherries. The warmth of saffron was not missed, and the different textures of soft fish, toothsome vegetable and crisp rice tantalised every morsel.

Similarly, Emet-Selch made sounds of pure delight as he paired flavours and textures together, sips of white wine interspersing as his cheeks began to flush. Occasionally lifting his head to observe both architect and shapeshifter, Nabriales’ lips drew into a gentle, pleased smile.

A moment of stillness and thought, Iosis draining their glass once more - filled once more, another bottle produced. “Dio, did you set this entire menu yourself?”

“To confess, I met with the head chef here some weeks ago to discuss what I wished these dishes to use, and together we composed the feast you are presently dining on. A little collaboration can make things all the more  _ delicious _ , do you not agree?” A pleased grin, the corners of his eyes wrinkling, one closing in a wink before he put together another bite, offered out on fingers to Iosis. They leaned forwards, taking the bite and making a sound of surprised delight. Savoury meat met sweet and spiced figs with a drop of peppery and acidic bite from the wholegrain mustard, salt from the crisped aubergine.

“I  _ do _ enjoy my indulgences.”

A moment of thought, and Iosis carefully composed a taste of their own dish, taken from its fork by the Majestic who hummed a sound of pleasure. Before long, bites of all dishes had been taken by each other, discussion over flavours preferred, aspects of particular delight. Glasses drained, refilled, cheeks taking on flushed hues of red and dusk.

Cleared plates, though not as clear as Iosis would have liked, dissuaded from licking theirs clean by Emet-Selch as he pinched the bridge of his nose, sat for a short while before being taken. Water sipped as stomachs settled, Iosis playing with making their wine glass sing as they ran the pad of a taloned finger around its rim.

“The pomegranates, Dionys...were they taken from our garden? I know they are gaining popularity in the city, but this is the first time I’ve had the... _ pleasure _ of having them employed in cooking,” Emet-Selch spoke up after a few moments, picking a stray gem-like seed up from the table, examining it.

“Quite so. The chef here has actually been in contact with our dear gardener recently to experiment with it more, with a view to integrate it into their own garden. She was quite surprised to learn of our little…” he trailed off, brow furrowing as he tried to find an appropriate word to describe the dynamics of relationships.

“Bowtie?” Iosis chirped, a warm smile and soft giggle at the term, yet far from incorrect.

“Hmm, yes. Bowtie. With  _ you _ as its knot, my monster.”

Clearing their throat, the waiter approached the table once more, a warm smile, brought on from contagiously upbeat Amaurotines gracing their masked face. “Are we ready for dessert? Is there anything else I can get you as well?” One of Iosis’ ears gently lifted at the voice, familiar to them, lifting their head and giving the Amaurotine a curious look. A temptation to gently touch on threads rose, but they resisted it. Such an intrusion would be rude without asking.

“I’d say we are quite ready for some dessert. Nabriales has...done some fine work in making sure our tastes are met,” Emet-Selch answered, nods of agreement following. The waiter smiled, heading back to the kitchen.

When they emerged, two plates were held in either hand, the third perched upon a dextrous, leathery tail that placed the plate with as much ease as hands, right in front of Iosis. The shapeshifter’s eyes widened at the sight - they knew it so well. It was one of  _ theirs _ , a framed modification that they had rewarded students with in their classes. Looking back up at an unmasked face, their surprise turned to a wide smile, breaking into a toothed, beaming countenance.

“Tyche! It’s been so long! You graduated, what, a decade ago?”

A titter of laughter from the tailed Amaurotine, nodding. “Just so! I have been working here for a few years now, when I discovered it was a frequent haunt of your current and former students looking for a place to be a bit freer. We help each other out. Consider me aglow with honour to see my favourite professor looking like themself.”

Iosis’ hand drew over their chest, fighting joyful tears as they laughed. “That explains why I recognised some of the script in Pheme and Gelos’ matrix formulae, for certain.”

“Your classes were ever the hardest and most enjoyable. I will not keep you, though. A simple joy to see you once more. Please, enjoy.” With a gentle bow, Tyche slipped their mask back on, heading back into the kitchen with a beaming smile on their face.

Looking back down at the plate, dessert was simple, entirely expected and yet unexpected all at once. A thing everybody in the  _ bowtie _ could never help but indulge in.

Baklava.

An array of five small pastries, syrup-soaked and spiced, the pastry still delicate, crisp and flaky. Pistachios, walnuts and almonds peeped out from between layers and layers of pastry. Emet-Selch chuckled, picking one up and eating the small pastry, a bite of decadence that made him hum with a sound of relishment.

A gentle trill, Iosis picked up one shaped carefully like a bird’s nest, biting in and making an undignified sound of ecstasy, slumping back into their chair as eyelids fluttered. Their tail crept beneath the table for it to curl lazily around Nabriales’ calf and ankle, a loving squeeze that put an almost boyish smile on the Majestic’s face as he took a small bite of one pastry, savouring it with slowness.

“I think whomever made these could give you a run for your money, Io,” Emet-Selch joked, the top of his hand playfully swatted by his spouse, both breaking into drunk laughter, leaning into each other and pressing their foreheads together, feeding each other matching pastries, quiet broken by content sighs, fingers with black-laquered nails drifting through loose locks of pewter hair. Emet-Selch’s gaze slid to the puffed up Majestic, resting his chin on the knuckles of one hand. “And here I thought you would spend all evening setting me up for flirtatious insults, Dionysus.”

A shrug and a grin. “We are immortal. I have as many other days to refer to you as the  _ most incompetent _ as I wish. Tonight, I feel, is not fit for such behaviour.”

Iosis gasped with mock surprise, moving, leaning til their nose almost touched Nabriales’, eyes squinting with their playful smile. “Is this it? Am I finally witnessing Dio on  _ best behaviour? _ ” Fingers cradled their jaw, thumb tracing over plush, grey-painted lips, a flit of the Majestic’s tongue, a gleam of metal upon it catching the light, sweeping a glistening drop of syrup from their smile.

“ _ Iooo~osis _ , my saccharine monster, I think you will find my  _ best behaviour _ is that which gets you to sob my name in delicious, delirious ecstasy.” A tease deflected, a tooth catching on his lip with his smile of seeing tan skin turn deep dusky plum, Iosis flusteredly withdrawing, but their tail squeezing  _ tight _ on his leg. They lifted another slice of baklava, a smaller bite as they tried to settle their blush, squirming lightly in their seat much to Nabriales’ amusement. “There is a good pet; enjoy your dessert.” Another squeeze of their tail, a long sip of mead between each bite.

Emet-Selch could not prevent Iosis from using their fingers to sweep syrup off the emptied plate, this time, slipping taloned finger into their mouth to suck clean, before repeating the motion. “I’m not ash’m-- fuck-- I’m not ashamed to say, this  _ might  _ be better thannnn mine,” they said with a stumbling, tipsy drawl to their speech.

Tyche approached the table, smiling. “Is there anything else I can get for the three of you?”

“The bill, perhaps?” Emet-Selch replied, reaching into his pocket.

“Oh! No need for that, the esteemed Nabriales already paid for the evening well in advance. All taken care of.”

Nabriales chuckled at Emet-Selch’s surprised countenance. “I do not just take care of our little monster, Hades. I do rather take care of the whole  _ bowtie. _ ”

Emet-Selch cleared his throat and tried to shrug off the flustered beating of his heart, rolling his shoulders. “I cannot speak for my spouse and Nabriales but I am quite alright.”

A hum of thought and Nabriales shook his head. “Everything has been satisfactory. Absolutely  _ delicious, _ truly. What about you,  _ Ioo~o _ ?”

Mutely shaking their head with a smile, Iosis finished their last glass of mead, a fair few more imbibed than their husband, evident from hooded eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Then, when you are ready, you may leave at your leisure. You will be glad to know that the rain has let up since your arrival; it should be a pleasant walk home.” With another soft half-bow, they returned to the kitchen. Iosis looked over toward it, a half-wall revealing part of the kitchen staff, blinking a few times as they saw horns peeking over the divider from two others.

Scrutinising their surroundings more, they noted small models on shelves, of tails and wings and horns, ones they recognised so well. How the overhead lamps were gilded, large bulbs of light held in avian talons. Lips parted to speak but they did not know where to start.

“-sis...Iosis?” Emet-Selch called, his snapping fingers drawing their attention.

“Mmh-sorry, what? Zoned out a second, what?” A few more blinks, alcohol clouding their mind.

“Nabriales and I are ready to go, are you?” A slow smile, Emet-Selch smoothing his hand over their hair to settle them from being brought back to attention with their thoughts distracted. A few nods was his answer, the two men drawing to their feet and watching as Iosis wobbled as they stood, careful steps to the rack to retrieve their robes and mask, leaning against a wall as they donned the garment, Emet-Selch and Nabriales doing so with far more grace.

Iosis gave a soft yelp as they were hefted up against Emet-Selch, chest to his, instinctively putting one arm over a shoulder and the other around his chest. “Up you come. It will be dawn before we get back if we let you walk at that pace, little monster.” His lips pressed to their forehead and nose affectionately, Tyche darting ahead to open the door for the three of them, the two Convocation members thanking them on the way out. Peering over Emet-Selch’s shoulder, a smile as horned and tailed chefs and kitchen staff waved them off, masks removed. A small, impish wing stretched from their shoulder, flexing in a wave of their own.

“So, the obvious question is, Hades, where do we return to? Yours or mine?” Nabriales asked, starting a slow stride, sandals scuffing in boyish kicks on the marble streets of Amaurot. Floral lamps illuminated the paths, and with the sun long set, windows of buildings lit up, the city glittering for malms.

A huff of amusement, Emet-Selch crooking his arm out in offering, the Majestic gently looping his arm into the architect’s. “I think  _ ours, _ Dionysus.”

It would be a long walk to the house on the outskirts, but one relished, especially with Iosis’ excited, proud and drunk chatter after they spotted the name of the restaurant as they left it behind. Chatter of realisation; everything adding up - a place where their students were free to wear aether as they liked. Where reports and reprimands were never issued from.

_ Gilt, Aurum, Gold. _


	12. All At Once - NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iosis being Iosis. Features hemipenes, vagina, service Hythlodaeus and orgasm denial. Hythlodaeus shortens their birth name to "Aro".
> 
> Shapeshifters have great ideas all the time every time.

“Daaaaeeeus,” Iosis called, slinking down from their top floor den to the kitchen on the ground floor. Hythlodaeus, quietly working on bread, kneading it in strong hands, lifted his head with a soft smile.

“Good afternoon, my little gargoyle. You have that song in your tone again.” Playful, a gentle chuckle in his voice as he slowly shaped the dough, placing it into an oiled bowl before tucking it into a small cupboard to rise. “What new and marvellous thing have you done with your body today, my love?”

Iosis fidgeted slightly, wringing their hands as their gaze slid sideways, cheeks darkening with a plum blush. “W-well, I was going to ask if you would like to see, and also to, ah...test things out, before I push the design to my inventory.”

Interest piqued, Hythlodaeus’ brows raised as he washed his hands. “Adjusting your body to amuse yourself, or amuse Dion?”

“Both!” Iosis blurted, covering their mouth straight after. A peal of laughter, sweet and loving, erupted from Hythlodaeus’ throat. Sweeping over to Iosis, he stooped and tipped their chin up, liquid copper locks spilling over the short polymorph’s shoulders as he drew them into a kiss. His tongue slid along their lips and they gladly parted, letting him taste overwhelming sticky, syrupy aether on their tongue.

Breaking the heated kiss with a soft whine from his spouse, his thumb stroked their cheek. “Oh dear, Io. It must be  _ quite _ the modification. Would you like to go to the bedroom now?” A feverish nod was his answer, and strong gardener’s arms lifted Iosis up, pressing their chest to his, their legs wrapping around his waist. “Do I get to be informed of what I am to expect, or is it a surprise, Io?”

“S-surprise. But- oh, oh- nnngh--f--f- _ fuck _ , I might have overdone nerve endings,  _ fuck, _ ” they rasped, clawed talons gripping onto Hythlodaeus’ lightweight robes. Soft, soothing noises bloomed from his throat, fingers gliding and combing through hair as Iosis shuddered against him, ascending stairs to the master bedroom.

By the relatively short time that Hythlodaeus carried Iosis into the bedroom, their cheeks were deeply flushed, movements of walking that rubbed their body against his making breaths hissed and raspy. Ever a tease, Hythlodaeus slowly pulled the polymorph’s vest top up over their body, his fingers roaming. “Hmmmh, no changes here. Oh, wait, is this scale new? All this fuss for-”

“Daeus,  **_please!_ ** ” Iosis cried, begging as his fingers teased over the tops of their hips, fingers hooking under the waistband of utilitarian shorts and working them down. He had come to expect certain things from Iosis but for once he was caught off-guard, brows raising in the mildest surprise as he carefully slipped the garment and smallclothes off their body.

“This is...rather plain for you, Iosis.” Fingers slid across their mound, smooth with a tight slit, a  _ cloaca, _ that wept drops of gold aether. Bifold, rather than a single slit of plush and soft flesh, they shivered as he palmed and smeared their arousal over their sex, a sigh of relief at the touch. A gentle pressure and two fingers slipped into their vent, caressing slick, twitching flesh that was notably ridged, two defined, throbbing shapes tucked into their body.

“Oh- oh  _ fuck _ Daeus, sweet fucking darkness please, please  _ more _ ,” Iosis gasped, grinding their hips up against his hand. A heavy throb within their cloaca and Hythlodaeus found his fingers soaked with slick and gilt aether, dripping out and down their body. Experimentally, he slowly pumped his fingers into their vent, rewarded with gasps and twitches as flesh swelled past the point their body could hold, two plush, drooling tips pushing free of folds.

A soft smile, Hythlodaeus dipped his head down, allowing lips to part and to take the tip of each hemipene into his mouth in turn, a gentle suck, a slow swirl of tongue on both that made Iosis keen, spilling precum into his mouth, eagerly swallowed down. “Ah, so  _ this _ is what has made you so needful. My sweet gargoyle, you can barely handle the sensation of one member, yet you decided to trial this?” His tongue slipped out to explore the ridges and whorls of intricate hemipenes, soft grazes of teeth on plump barbs that made his spouse gasp.

“Not just-ohhhfff-f--f-not just...fingers lower-- oh  _ beloved shade-- _ underneath,” Iosis groaned as their attentive husband investigated slick, drooling cocks. Their spine drew to a high arch as, as requested, his fingers pressed against the base of their shafts, then slipped lower, sinking into a milking, spasming entrance. “Ah--! Oh, oh I overdid it-- so much--  _ fuck _ that’ss-s- _ so good _ .” They trembled and writhed beneath him, panting as shafts  _ swelled _ with a flood of precum that Hythlodaeus diligently lapped up, the tip of his tongue dipping into the slits at the tip of each cock.

Pumping fingers slowly, each thrust deep to caress intimately, Hythlodaeus worked both canal and shafts with a firm but slow rhythm, squeezing twin members together when he felt the tell-tale swell of pre so he could drink it down, not spilling a drop. He had expected to feel Iosis climax sooner, as worked up as they were when they arrived in the kitchen, but while their chest heaved and body writhed and their  _ soul _ clung to the harmony of his, they did not peak.

“Daeus, Daeus,  _ oh-- _ please, please fuck me. I need it so bad, I haven’t-- oh **_fuck_ ** \- needed it so badly for so long. I _ need _ you, I--ghghk-” their voice broke into a whimpering moan as the feel of Hythlodaeus swallowing around the head of a shaft forced them to cum; thick, gold-marbled release poured from both tips, emptying down the administrator’s throat and onto their belly, spasms of cocks jetting release onto their chest. “Oh-- oh that’s...better,” they groaned.

Lips that tasted of sweetness and release sealed onto theirs with heat. They felt the warm, silky skin of Hythlodaeus gliding against theirs, eyes fluttering open with a hazy smile as they admired his body. Lithe, elegant but toned, muscles with soft definition underneath skin bearing scratches and soft bitemarks from both Iosis and Hades. “Sweet  _ darkness _ you are beautiful, Hythlodaeus,” they purred, fingers roaming, combing through silky red locks, drawing him in to kiss and  _ groaning _ into his mouth as his hand slowly drew both shafts together, still hard and dripping, joined by his own, pressed to both by his thumb. “Daeus please,  _ please _ , I need-”

A soft kiss hushed them, drawing back as their shivering breaths became the staccato anticipation. “I promise I will. But I would like to please you more before the main event, my love. Have I ever failed to bring you to the completion you ask of me?”

Their answer was drowned by a cry of overstimulated bliss as Hythlodaeus’ hips pushed, slipping his shaft against theirs, defined ridges plucking at the administrator’s glans as he thrust against the textured surface. The shapeshifter was treated to their husband’s sounds of delight, groans that sank bone-deep as he straddled their hips to frot, gilt precum mixing with clear, slow grinding thrusts picking up pace into hard snaps of hips that made Hythlodaeus tremble with each.

  
“Ah-- ho- hold it for me, love, hold it back,” he whispered breathily, his cock throbbing and twitching, gasping as he tumbled past the point of no return, feeling the rush as his body-

As his body did not climax, but instead held at that point by a gentle pull on the threads of his corporeal aether. Hythlodaeus shuddered and panted, his thrusts harder and faster as his body tried to claim the peak he was held just before the crest of. “Th-thank you-- Oh- come for me again, Aro.”

Teeth grit and  _ writhing _ beneath, shafts aching yet their spines plumping as a ragged gasp filled their lungs, hips bucking and snapping upwards as Iosis peaked once more. Hythlodaeus squeezed tips together to gather release in his hand til it overflowed, tipping his head back to drink, returning fingers to Iosis’ mouth who dazedly lapped and sucked his digits and palm clean, repeating the action again as release was scooped from their belly, fingers pushed past plush lips to pump and rub on textured tongue as Hythlodaeus’ hips still gave shuddering twitches.

“If I may con-f-f-oh-- if I may confess, I am...quite ready to  _ fuck _ you now,” he rasped, tip freely drooling copious pre, a sheen of iris blue in otherwise clear fluids. His fingers released softening shafts, his own cock slipping easily down release-soaked folds to snug, tucked away entrance and pushing insistently, twitching flesh yielding for his swollen girth. “Ah...s-so tight, my love.”

“Do I need to ch-nn--ghn..” their words died on their tongue as a hard roll of the administrator’s hips delved his cock deeper, the stretch and swell of it  _ bliss _ to their senses. Snug walls milked around Hythlodaeus’ manhood and he reflexively clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the  _ sob _ of a moan that pushed free of his chest.

“Noth-nothing, nothing, nothing don’t change a thing,” Hythlodaeus panted, pushing his hips tight to hilt, letting himself feel the maddening pulses of his cock, aching to pump Iosis full, his prevented orgasm making his thoughts drift selfishly. “I only-- wish to make you call in ecstasy, Aro.”

Thankful for Daeus’s aborted, hilted thrusts that allowed them to accustom to his girth, walls squeezed and rippled, their fingers slipping down, down,  _ down _ to press at their lower waist, feeling the faintest shape of Hythlodaeus within them. Walls  _ spasmed _ in response, head crashing back onto pillows as stars burst for a moment in their vision.

“D-Daeus, oh-ff f _ fuck _ \-- please cum inside me, please cum inside me, please, I want to feel it, I want to be full of  _ you _ , as much of you as I ca-a--a-nngf--” Their pleading cut off by movement; sudden, rutting hips  _ pounding _ into them as Hythlodaeus’ fingers  _ fisted _ into their hair, holding them fast as he begged for his release wordlessly, in reverent service as lips, tongue and  _ teeth _ lapped and scraped across silken horns.

However much Iosis had held onto that thread, it was impossible in the moment that they peaked. Snapping hips continued to fuck them through their climax as walls contracted and spasmed, held still by fingers gripping their hair and rendered deaf and blind as his mouth serviced their horns. Hythlodaeus’ weight pressed heavy onto them, a final hard buck of his hips before they felt the vibration of his moan against their body. Then  _ heat _ as his seed flooded their body, cock pumping as his body desperately emptied within his spouse until drained.

The administrator’s weight rested heavily onto them as he panted, lap of tongue exchanged for soft, sloppy kisses on horns, fingers uncurling from their tight hold on Iosis’ hair. Blind cherry eyes stared widely upwards, dazed as they both gulped down air.

“Nnmh...Aro, are you alright, love?” Hythlodaeus murmured, cradling their cheek as he felt the last few spasms of their body around him, the waning twitches of twin shafts, bellies soaked in a third release of seed and aurum.

Their tail curled loosely over his ankle, arms trembling in a hold as they blinked once, twice to gaze at the tall gardener. “I...think this modification is ready for further appraisal,” they gasped, shuddering as Hythlodaeus drew back. “Maybe overdid it on nerve endings. Don’t care. Fff-fff _ fuck _ that was…”

A soft, exhausted chuckle as Hythlodaeus trailed kisses down their body. “It always brings me such contentment to hear I brought you such pleasure. Now, let’s clean you up a bit, hmm?” His tongue slipped from lips, lapping up gouts of release from their body, suckling skin and swallowing. Not a drop missed, his cleaning of his spouse trailed down until with expert and delicate touch he groomed closed folds, fingers gently parting to delve tongue into them, drinking of their combined fluids and letting it collect on his tongue. Pleased with his work, and the way Iosis softly called his name, he drew back up beside them to kiss and feed mingled release to the polymorph who shivered in delight at the taste of him, a squeeze of walls;  _ full _ of him.

Exhausted and still taking restorative breaths, Iosis murmured tiredly to their husband, “One day you’ll have to let me please  _ you.  _ Just for you, you alone.” They were met with an amused, dazed smile, a soft shake of Hythlodaeus’ head as he rested his forehead on theirs.

“To hear you call and moan; feel you throb and squeeze -  _ that _ is pleasure plenty for me. The satisfaction of  _ completely unravelling  _ **_you_ ** _ , Charon. _ ”

Silence met Hythlodaeus, smiling as Iosis had completely drifted to sleep, exhausted. Slowly untangling himself from arms and legs and tail, a gesture of fingers rendered them both clean. In expert quiet, he drew a blanket over them and lifted their head to place a pillow under. A glass was filled with cool water that with a touch formed ice cubes to keep it cold and placed on the bedside table. A cabinet opened, a small plate adorned with dried fruit and nuts, placed next to the glass.

Lips pressed softly, adoringly against Iosis’ cheek, a lingering kiss. “Rest well, sparrow. I love you.” A gentle trill unfurled from Iosis’ throat in response, even in their sleep. Satisfied they would be comfortable and wake with needed hydration and energy, Hythlodaeus pulled on a fresh robe from the wardrobe and descended the stairs.

After all, he would wish to hear their moans of pleasure from his cooking later on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everybody shortens Nabriales' name to something different and it's very silly! Dionys, Dio, or just Dion.


	13. Heat - NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iosis is struck down with the sudden and severe onset of a heat.
> 
> Content: Heatfic, nonbinary A!WoL with all equipment, tailfucking, Nabs made a fleshlight

Maybe they had been working too long, but Iosis was sure they had never had a heat come on so fast, or so strongly. While indeed the polymorph had ultimate control over their body, sometimes the Star’s whims on their primordial connection proved more powerful than their own hold.

So when, in the middle of inscribing a small matrix for a friend, one that would alter the hue of their eyes, their core  _ throbbed _ , they were so off-guard that it made their head spin, slumping back into their chair with a moan.

“S-stars..It can’t be time already, it  _ can’t _ be.” Shuddering breaths as they righted themself, clearing their mind to return to the delicate work at hand, they leaned over their desk. The edge of it grazed across their pelvis and they nearly collapsed there and then as the sensation overwhelmed them, grinding into it on instinct for scant moments before shaking their head again.

“No. No, it’s work time. I am working, everybody else is working, I-- Oh, fuck,  _ fuck, _ no, I can’t be in heat now,” they groaned to themself. “Just passing friskiness.” Sweat beaded on their forehead, the fans of the room -when did the weather get so hot, anyway?- cooling it onto their skin. But they realised they were losing the fight - maybe some quick relief would make it pass and they could return to their project.

A gesture at the door locked and warded it, hands rummaging through a drawer to find- ah, yes, there it is. A toy they had pilfered from Nabriales’ cabinet of playthings he tinkered with to please his spouse, one of simple design, but never failing to pleasure them. With a ping of talons, their robes and underclothes smoked away from their body, leaving them bare.

Slate grey skin embraced around their hips and pelvis, creeping up their body like bleeding ink, gold scales and emerging, embering pinfeathers freckling their body. The folds of their vent were puffy, aching, gold aether freely dripping as their body demanded to be rutted. Iosis stared at their body in the mirror, talons drawing across skin, dipping to gather aurum slick from their cloaca to lap off with tapered tongue. The taste was nothing short of intense.

“Ohh- oh fuck,  _ stars _ , I am in heat. How did I not n-notice?”

Their tail slinked and coiled up and around their leg, cupping their weeping vent, its spade-shaped fins shrinking away to leave its tapered tip, watching themself as it slid and pushed against swollen flesh, sinking in slowly, firmly. Iosis trembled and leaned against the wall, staying standing, watching in the mirror as they pulled their tail back, a whim shifting its shape for something thicker, more satisfying, bulbs and whorls swelling from its soft leathery surface before pushing back into their aching slit, a pathetic, needy  _ mewl _ escaping the polymorph’s lips.

It was not any of their husbands, no, but this would  _ have _ to do.  _ For now. _ Each one occupied by work, duties or projects, Iosis was left needing to take care of themself. While nobody knew their body better, it was simply not enough- their heat would  _ demand _ that they be taken by another, filled with the aether of a mate. And while Iosis had tailored their body to never have the ability to carry a child...they had not tailored this maddening yet indulgent aspect away.

Their tail pumped into their aching slit slowly, firmly, a sigh of relief as the burn of emptiness subsided. Pushing deeper, swelling its girth, Iosis slipped fingers under the plush softness of their belly to trace the outline of their tail, pushing back against it, making their vision swim.

“Oh-- oh  _ stars _ , I wish….this was- ah- Dio…”

Fingers slipped lower, gliding over the top of their vent, easing its folds apart to let their arousal push free, twitching and soaked in gilt slick, pre spilling from its tip with each deep thrust of their tail.

The toy they had retrieved from the drawer slipped against the head of their cock, a tight but pliant entrance, simple outwardly but with divine and enticing texture within. They pushed their hips against it, teasing the head of their cock with the plucking ripples of texture just past its entrance, hooded eyes watching in the mirror as they fucked themself for relief, leaning heavily on the wall to stay standing as gold fluids dripped onto the marble floor.

“Need to...f-fill...be full.. Oh-- oh fff-fuck-k...Want to be f-f-fat….from aether...with s-ss-seed---ohh-..ah…” Holding the toy firm, Iosis’ hips pressed forward, slipping in, meeting its blissful heat within, bucking hard and pulling the cocksheath onto their arousal fully, panting as they squeezed their hand around their shaft through it at the same time their walls spasmed around their tail.

Iosis’ hips drew back, knees trembling as they threatened to buckle, then with a sharp jerk of a thrust hilted within the toy again, eyes rolling back, diamond talons splintering the wood of the shelf they leaned against to hold themself upright, clear pre dribbling from the end of the toy as in moments it flooded with slick, heated need. Tail withdrew, plunging in with a crude, wet sound as with a choked cry their legs gave out, sending them crashing to their knees with a yelp as the tip of their tail struck deep inside. Trembling thrusts rocked their smooth tail within and their cock into the sheath, claws gouging into the marble.

Panting sobs made wet with gilded drool burst from their mouth as they desperately fucked themself, their bid for relief only making their heat rage further. Even as their body stiffened for moments in a climax, spattering the floor with seed and sticky gilt trickling down their thighs to their bruised knees, the bonfire in their core was only stoked further.

“Pl-pl..please..please--  _ please _ ,” they begged themself, hips jerking again into the cocksheath as their erection only throbbed harder, sore but unsated, the makeshift dildo of their tail trembling each time it pushed within, swelling to stretch the walls of their needy body to just the edge of pain. “Ohh-oh  _ fuck,  _ **_fuck,_ ** sweet darkness  **_please!_ ** Just--uhnn--nn-- just a f-f--a few hour-” Buck. Thrust.  _ Fuck. _ “ **_Minutes!_ ** Pl-please I’ll t-take just a few m-mm-mn-nnhh-aah!” Their cock surged with another orgasm, painting the floor with thick release. The arm holding them up buckled, chest hitting the floor and their head draping with it, smearing white and gold across deep tan skin, matting pewter hair.

Lifting their gaze to the mirror, the  _ sight _ of them, covered with their arousal, aether and release made them whimper, shuddering as walls milked their tail in a begging peak, their rear high in the air, tail flexing as they fucked themself furiously, surrendering to their heat and drooling mindlessly as hips and tail thrust, bucked and surged into body and sleeve.

The cycle repeated, over and over, each climax bringing no relief from the furnace inside them, craving and demanding that another’s aether fill and pool within their aching, dripping vent. Attempts to right themself dashed as hands slipped on the aether-slick floor, leaving talons to rake furrows into it, each glance in the mirror at their state renewing their vigor to fuck themself to a new peak, soaking their body in themself.

“H-help..hhhhe--ll...p,” Iosis whimpered, talons gripping the cocksleeve tight as they felt their shaft swell with orgasm but only barest, clear drips escaped. They had ceased to count long ago, tired sobs and exhausted tears dripping from their eyes. Their core seared with need still, desperate for another to claim them. For the aether of another to extinguish the hearth within; it didn’t matter how, just to feel,  _ aether, please, please, need, give, give-- _

Hazy eyes rolled back, heaving a breath as their body collapsed entirely. A gleam of iris blue caught in the corner of addled vision, a phial in the drawer left open.

_ He truly thought of everything. _

Sticky fingers shakily lifted, grabbing the bottle of liquid aether tight, bringing it to their mouth to rip the cork out with their teeth. The smell of aromatic bitters flooded their senses and they  _ shrieked _ as their body immediately climaxed with dizzying intensity from the scent alone, hips bucking and trembling wildly against the floor as they sobbed through its aching burn. “Ghhk--please, I...stars, plea-aaahhhfffuck  **_please_ ** let this wooork,” Iosis moaned, waiting for the worst to pass before slipping their tail from their vent with a lewd wet sound, sticky gold pouring from between their legs in its wake. 

Bringing it to their lips they sucked and lapped clumsily, cleaning vanilla sweetness from its velour surface, slipping it between lips to swallow around its tip, thrusting needfully a few times before the ache between their thighs brought their attention back.

Holding their tail still, the phial was upended onto it, letting iris blue soak its length, Iosis biting their lip til lightless black blood, sour and herbaceous, bloomed and dripped down their chin to mingle with gold, desperate to taste aromatic bitters.

With shaking, breaths they let go of the velvet length of flesh, watching in the mirror as it disappeared under them, a whimper as they probed aching folds, dripping as walls convulsed in wanton anticipation. “Please work,” they rasped.

Iosis’ vision swam as their tail plunged deep again, coated in Hythlodaeus’ aether. Skin turned ashen grey, keratinous plates coating up arms and legs before embering feathers pierced outwards from the rest of their flesh, sticky with sweet gold and sour black. Talons gouged into the floor as full, hard thrusts rutted their aching slit, drooling cock forgotten as ragged breaths heaved into their lungs. Cries distorted into shrieking keens as bones crackled and groaned, lips and jaw breaking to give way for a saw-edged beak, manifold tongues spilling from their avian visage to drool aurum freely, horns fusing to a halo, pressure opalising the bone at its crown. Three more eyes tore open, light overwhelming them in the moment and the Weave’s  _ will _ snatching the light from the room to plunge them into darkness.

“D-Daeus!  **_Daeus!_ ** ” they sobbed as his aether coated and oozed deep within, peaking one last time around their tail as wings burst from their shoulders to beat violently, knocking over decorations and equipment alike, moaning and wailing cries of ecstasy until their voice warbled hoarsely, relishing as the sinful ache in their core finally snuffed out.

Exhausted, sated if only for a while, Iosis’ mutated body crashed to the floor entirely. Lightless blood, gilt aether and white seed soaked into feathers and skin as they panted, eyes unfocused, hazy and rolling as stars and stardust speckled their sight in the darkened room. With their cheek pressed onto the soaked floor, their beak parted to let tongues lap at the marbled filth of their self-indulgence, swallowing between gulps of air.

“H-help…” they pleaded again, boneless and exhausted. They had bought themself time, nothing more. Consciousness became a fading concept for the polymorph, only able to hope that the person to find them was one of their bonds as talons of gilded aether weakly pulled on threads of tyrian and cherry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cleanup on aisle five, cleanup on aisle five. somebody please come and collect your shapeshifter.


	14. Balmy Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iosis and Hythlodaeus share a lazy morning in the garden.
> 
> Content: Fluff. A lot of fluff. 
> 
> I died as I lived, with no beta.

A quiet, cool and balmy morning rose on Amaurot. With each moment the sun drifted higher into the skyline, the leaves of Hythlodaeus’ garden illuminated further and further, seeming to come to a bright, zesty life as light and warmth crept onto the garden. Flowers unfurled, letting sweet scents fill the air. Faint crooning from hens rousing from their slumber in the coop, and a trickle of fresh running water that coursed through the garden.

Usually the first to rise, Hythlodaeus noted the presence of his spouse’s gilt soul at rest under the pagoda, a slow sway as their tail rocked the swinging bench they were so fond of. A soft tuneful tone in his voice as he stepped outside, carrying a tray of hot tea and toasted bread, slathered in rich butter and drizzled with thick, deep-hued honey, Hythlodaeus called softly.

“Ioo~oosis~”

Cherry eyes drifted open slowly, lifting their head and torso, letting their blanket fall to their waist as Iosis sat up. “Daeus…” they murmured groggily.

“Good morning, sparrow. Am I witnessing an early rise, or a late night?” Hythlodaeus smiled warmly, setting the tray down on the table and pouring a mug of amber coloured tea, breaking a cube of sugar in half and mixing it in alongside a scant amount of milk, handing it to his drowsy spouse.

Taking a careful sip, Hythlodaeus’ hands not leaving theirs lest they drop the mug, Iosis thought on the question. “Can it be both? Late night, then came home, tried to sleep, Hades snoring, so came out here.” An easier sip, gentle talk slowly rousing them from their half-slumbering state.

“Ah, yes, he  _ was _ quite loud last night, was he not? I am surprised you did not opt to spend the night with Dion.”

Iosis burst out with a mirthful laugh, thumb rubbing the smooth, glossy enamel lip of the mug they gripped confidently now, letting the gardener’s hands fall back. “I wanted to  _ sleep, _ Daeus! I think His Majesty would have been quite offended had I fallen asleep while he was fucking me.”

Warm, smooth laughter joined the polymorph, Hythlodaeus setting a plate of toast onto their lap as he joined them on the bench. “I wouldn’t be  _ so sure _ , my love. He does so love to watch you writhe in your slumber, after all.”

Plum hue spread across Iosis’ cheeks, creeping into the tips of their ears as they huffed an indignant sound. “It’d be remiss to compare  _ waking up _ to  _ falling asleep _ . Especially if…” they trailed off as Hythlodaeus’ chuckling, mirthful and wispy in almost wheezes, trickled from his lips, muted into his chest as he sipped from his cup.

“I think even the most Majestic could be persuaded to let you sleep if you _truly_ needed it so much.” Creases formed at his mouth and eyes, lighter ones at his forehead as he smiled. His foot planted on the ground, he idly and slowly rocked the bench back and forth, fine grit on the stone slabs of the pagoda’s floor making bare skin slip with a rustle of dust. “He is not as prone to declarations as Hades or I but--” His fingers glossed over the smooth surface of their earrings, the milky stones catching gold in the morning sun, chasing blue out to the edges of facets. “--he has always been a man of action over words.” Then, down to the shape of the pocket watch hanging from their neck, tucked under their robes. As their gaze followed, he quickly swept his hand up, gently flicking the tip of their nose with the pads of his finger. “Got you again.”

Iosis rubbed their nose with a huff, sticking their tongue out at the calm chief. “At least it wasn’t covered with dirt this time.” Grinning when Hythlodaeus burst into laughter, they took another bite out of their toast, washing it down with lightly sweet and hot tea that bit back the damp, cool dew of the morning.

“The day is still young, sparrow.”

The two fell into silence for some time, the only sounds the slow creak of the rocking bench, the intermittent jingle of chimes and the brook running through the garden, watching as the sun’s rays made wisps of steam rise from dew-soaked wooden lattice, grapes almost glowing from the sun diffusing through their glaucous coating. Bright red blooms of the pomegranate trees unfurled as the light found the leaves, glints of nectar soon visited by bees roused by the parade of colour unveiling before the two Amaurotines.

“Halmarut told me you visited her halls recently. Something to do with that once-morbol now climbing our house?” Iosis asked, setting empty plate and cup down on the table.

Hythlodaeus patted his lap and chest, his spouse readily settling there, leaning back onto him as he plucked a comb from his inventory, starting to work out the plait that after several days was only barely hanging onto a sense of cohesion. “Ah, yes. I showed her a few pictures of what you crafted it into and asked if it was something she had seen before. Surprising  _ nobody _ , you created something quite unique. I asked if she would like some of the seeds once the plant bears fruit, the answer to which was an emphatic yes. She also encouraged that you put it into a matrix and file it at Anamnesis.”

Iosis blinked a few times, turning their head to gaze back slowly. “Wouldn’t it need to go through approv...als?”

A hushing finger tapped to Hythlodaeus’ lips, a slow wink and smile. They asked no further, and instead leaned back as unkempt hair was combed into sleek locks of liquid pewter, sighing contently. “I love you, Daeus. And not just for sometimes pre-approving concepts.”

The hum of amusement vibrated against their back, a light, dulled fizz against their skin through thick robes, weave flocked with age and wear; soft and comforting. “I love you too, little gargoyle.” His fingers gathered sections of hair, re-braiding it neatly, drawing it around, across their forehead and looping under the rest of their hair, using it to lift the rest into a ponytail. Holding it in place, his fingers plucked a hairpin from the air. Deep copper and bearing a small enamel sparrow on its end, he gently tucked, twisted and fixed the plait in place, leaving some hair to fall forwards at the sides of Iosis’ face, fine hairs tickling across gold-and-freckle-specked skin. “There. I believe that is how Elidibus puts it up, correct?”

Pads of taloned fingers slipped along glossy, neat hair, checking the plait and the end result, finding the pin with a few curious touches. Hythlodaeus’ eyes wrinkled with a broad smile and his arms wrapped snugly around their chest, pressing his temple against the side of their head in a warm embrace. “Happy birthday, Charon.”

They hadn’t even realised. Of course, unless nearing a significant nameday number, they never paid much mind, as was the same for the rest of Amaurot. The first hundred or so were celebrated every year, but after that, once every fifty, hundred, two hundred...They did not even know when Hythlodaeus’ was, so long it would be til his next celebrated one.

“But the next celebration isn’t for another thirty years? Hythlodaeus this is-- oh, I love it, it’s lovely, but...” They were beaming yet on the verge of tears, yet only met with the sweetest, calmest of smiles as they twisted to gaze at bright ocean teal.

“Your celebrations are every hundred, yes? Well, it just so happens that mine is in seventy years exactly. Let us combine that waiting period and revel just a tiny bit today, hmm?”

Cherry red eyes widened, pupils drawn to little points, ears up as they realised what he had just said. “ _Daeus_...it..it’s...” Turning fully to sling their arms around him, talon tips pulling at the threads of the redhead’s robe as they hugged him tight, pressing their cheek to his. “Happy birthday, Hythlodaeus. I’m sorry I...I don’t have any--”

“My dear Charon, you must be _joking._ You have already given me the very best of gifts. This smile, this embrace. All things I could want on an auspicious day. On this day, many centuries ago, the Star gave a gift to me, to Hades, to Dionysus, to Kokopelli - a bright gold soul unlike any other.”

“And the most wonderful blue too,” Iosis mumbled, sniffling through soft tears as they buried their head into the cowl of Hythlodaeus’ robes, its loose weave brushing against their lips, soaking up salt-laced tears. “The Star gave the both of us to so many on this day.”

Hythlodaeus slowly stroked Iosis’ shoulder with his thumb until they settled, smiling as he heard their breathing go heavier and slower as they drifted back to sleep in his arms, exhaustion dragging them back to slumber. Pulling the blanket over them both, his own eyes began to lid as he allowed his aether to twine with theirs, whispers of dreams tickling at the base of his skull, warm and inviting. Glimpses of craggy mountains with pools of steaming water. Slippery kelp forests lit by golden glowing fruit, flower-like clionid darting by. Redwoods creaking in a breeze, dry leaves and soft brush of moss underfoot. Caverns with glittering raw gems jutting from their walls as if the jaws of a beast in a child’s story.

Eventually the dreaming settled, on a moment of dozing in a pagoda. Grape vines coiling around wood. Glaucous surfaces diffusing light. Dappled sun on skin. Air crisp with cool dew. Smell of night jasmine lingering, sweet and creamy.

Places he had heard Iosis speak of visiting on journeys out of the city, yet what their mind settled on to dream about was exactly here, this moment.

An auspicious day, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, Shadowbringers.


End file.
